Sole Survivor
by IronDoormat
Summary: PreHBP. 39 days on a tropical island. Can Hermione outplay the Muggles, and a familiar face, to become Sole Survivor? HGDM, complete.
1. Day One

Sole Survivor  
  
(I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling. The rest are ficticious.)  
  
Day One  
  
I've spent the last four hours on a boat. The last thing I want right now is to be on a boat. So of course, Larry from the production crew is standing in front of us, explaining how in a few short minutes we're going to get off this larger boat and into much, much smaller boats.  
  
We're somewhere out in the middle of the Tahitian islands, that much I know. However, none of us has a clue as to the exact location or name of the tropical island in the distance. Though I'm sure we'll all find out when the show goes live, and the internet fan sites dig for all the dirt they can. The seven other passengers on my side of the boat listen as attentively as I do; likewise, the eight strangers on the other side. We've come too far, and are in for too much, to not listen to the rules. Not that we could do much else; we've been forbidden to speak to each other until the game begins.  
  
Larry makes sure we all have our headbands on. Just my luck, green. Not the most attractive color for me. I sneak a quick glance at the other team, and feel a little better. At least our headbands aren't orange. We sit patiently while the production team works on camera angles, lighting, whatever. Then suddenly, it's time to go. The cameras are running. Marcus Nash, the attractive-in-a-plastic-way host, starts running through his scripted speech. It's the same one you've heard every season; two teams, forty days, one sole survivor, with a million in cash in the balance. Marcus explains to the audience exactly what Larry recently explained to us; we have five minutes to scavenge our side of the ship for whatever provisions we can find, then we're off to Unknown Island on our tiny green boat. He gives the word, and the next five minutes are a frenzy of activity. There's no time to make introductions, but at least we're free to shout advice to each other. I team up with an attractive blonde girl to haul two boxes of supplies to the side of the ship. It feels like we've barely begun when a whistle blows, and we all have to stop lugging cargo and hop into our team's boat.  
  
The row is hard. Probably about three hours total; we don't get to our beach until midday. But what a relief to get off the water and back onto dry land. I feel a bit queasy, but I don't think I'm as bad off as some. My blonde friend looks distinctly green around the gills. I feel guilty for a moment, because I can make her feel better with just an uttered word. I have to block those feelings, but it's hard. After all, I can't go around flashing my powers in front of Muggles. And I'm not here for charity; I fully intend to win the million. I mutter a quick spell under my breath and my nausea is gone.  
  
Introductions are finally made. My blonde friend, Anna, is a thirty-year-old dance instructor. Not surprising, she's in fantastic shape. I know it will be a day or so before I have everyone's name down. Overall, they seem like a decent group of people, and I don't think there will be too many problems getting along, which is a welcome relief. After the excitement of the last couple of years, the idea of spending time with pleasant people on a tropical island almost seems like a vacation.  
  
We decide to break up into groups, with the men constructing a rudimentary shelter and the women combing the area for food. Nothing like well-defined gender roles, but frankly I'm glad; I'm feeling a bit tired already, and heavy labor doesn't sound too appealing. Our supplies contain a frying pan and some utensils, but a limited amount of rice and canned goods. We'll definitely need to add some local specialties to the menu. As I browse through the underbrush, looking for edible plants, I think about the last couple of years, and how I got to be here on Unknown Island.  
  
The short version of the story is that Voldemort lost. Of course, it was much more difficult living the story than telling it. When Harry, Ron and I graduated from Hogwarts, there had been some minor skirmishes, some rumbling, but nothing too serious. We knew ol' Voldy was out there somewhere, but since his failure to kill Harry in our 4th year, he stayed mostly in the shadows. It wasn't until three years ago, when we were all 20, that the hell really began. Death Eaters started a full-scale war on the Ministry. Harry and Ron, as Aurors-in-training, were quickly enlisted in the fighting. It was hard to know who to trust; anyone you spoke to could be passing that information on to the dark side. Friends became suspicious of friends, husbands and wives were torn apart. I heard about a number of old school friends who were injured or killed. I worked in the Information department of the Ministry; coded messages, secret passwords, very cloak-and-dagger stuff. So even though I was able to follow the news of the front closely, I also had to see a number of familiar names in unfortunate situations. Friends who you'd think would be on the side of good were uncovered as traitors, and some of the most suspicious people turned out to be our best allies. Who would have thought, back in school, that Slytherins like Millicent Bulstrode would be some of our best spies?  
  
Of course, as everyone predicted, Harry was the one who finally killed Voldemort. It's been a year, and he still won't talk much about it; I suspect he was hurt terribly, and it probably messed with his mind. I don't really see him that often; I get together with Ron for coffee every month or so, but it's probably been six months since I've seen Harry. As for the rest of the wizarding world...Voldemort's minions left it in tatters. Recovery continues slowly but surely, but many of us were left without jobs or homes. I was one of the lucky ones; I knew how to get along in Muggle life, so I changed sides. I took an administrative job with a Muggle bank, rented an apartment in a Muggle building, bought my Muggle car. It was almost like immersing myself into a Muggle Studies class, and I found out pretty quickly that I couldn't stand it; I missed the magic. I missed flying. I missed a thousand wonderful things I'd taken for granted every day. So I came up with the idea to beat the Muggles at one of their own games. I'd watched it enough on television, and figured that with just the right amount of magic, I could win the million. Then I wouldn't have to worry about working a job to pay the rent; I could put all my efforts into helping rebuild the community I loved.  
  
I spent a full two months in training. Learning new spells, modifying old ones, creating some from scratch. I read every book I could get my hands on to learn about island survival: what plants to eat, what insects to avoid. The biggest challenge was how to get my wand on the island and how to keep it with me. I could easily transfigure it into a luxury item, but people would grow suspicious if I carried a toothbrush or teddy bear with me everywhere. Finally, I hit upon the idea to transfigure it into a bikini top. Easy enough to wear all the time, not likely to get lost...although it was interesting learning to cast a spell by jutting my chest at things.  
  
A burly older fellow named Bob comes around to us gatherers; apparently a temporary shelter is in place, and it's time for dinner. I look up at the sun, and I'm surprised to see that it's getting low on the horizon. My food gathering and woolgathering made the time pass amazingly fast. As I follow Bob back to camp, I catch a cameraman out of the corner of my eye. If he'd been following me all the time, he'd been very quiet about it. Maybe he followed Bob; I'm not sure. I'm going to have to keep a sharper eye out for them; the last thing I need is someone catching a small bit of magic on camera. That's going to be one of the hardest challenges out here - making sure nobody catches me.  
  
We make it back to camp, and I see that a couple of the men are trying to start a fire by rubbing two sticks together. I see my first chance to be viewed as useful.  
  
"Hey, guys, you look tired. I'll step in if you like." A good-looking fellow with dark hair hanging into his eyes looks up. He sizes me up, and I give him my friendliest grin. Slowly, he stands and gives me the stick he'd been furiously rubbing on another stick. The end looks charred; he got very close, but my reading taught me that fire is very difficult to start by this method.  
  
I give it a good ten minutes' effort before I whisper my fire spell. Hey, I don't want it to look like magic! 


	2. Day Two

Day Two  
  
I'm already tired of spending the night outdoors, and it's only been one night. I may have been an adventurous girl in school, but since then I've become quite used to a comfortable bed and a warm house. Between the jungle noises, the cool ocean breeze and the cramped quarters, it's hard enough to sleep. Throw in someone who snores louder than a howler, and you've got my night. The only thing that's going to make this bearable is my luxury item, a waterproofed pillow. Of course I waterproofed it with a spell before leaving home; I've got so many spells on myself right now, it's not even funny.  
  
Let's see. Should we count the charms I put on my application and videotape so they'd get selected? That was probably where my official misuse of magic began. Of course, if I win the million, it's all getting changed into Galleons to help the wizarding world anyway. So I don't see how anyone could have a problem with it. As my dad used to say, "better to ask forgiveness than permission." I'll also have to ask forgiveness for an anti-sunburn charm, a Muggle charisma boost and an anti-owl locator spell, just to name a few. It wouldn't do to be on the television with owls delivering letters; now, they'll just drop them off at my apartment until I get home.  
  
I'm up with the sun this morning; I would guess it's about half past six, but since I'm not allowed a watch and I've never been this close to the Equator, it could be four or ten for all I know. Thankfully, my spot is near the end of the crude shelter, so I'm able to slip out without anyone noticing. Jogging is not my favorite form of exercise, but it's pretty much the only thing I have out here, so I get to it. A couple of passes up and down the beach let me exercise and check out the surroundings at the same time. Out to sea, I can barely make out a reef. No wonder our lagoon is so placid. I hope that the reef keeps the sharks out; then again, they wouldn't put us on a shark-infested beach, would they? I can only assume the producers checked out the locations in advance, and wouldn't put us in a situation where we could face deadly animal attacks. The beach stretches probably a hundred meters from the water, where it meets the underbrush and then jungle. All in all, it's very lovely, but after the exertions of yesterday and the sleeping experience of last night, I know I'll be glad to leave when the time comes. I sincerely hope that time will be a full forty days from now.  
  
You'd think winning this contest would be a given, but I'm a bit of a pessimist. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, as they say. For all I know, the charisma boost won't make me look any better in the eyes of the Muggles, and they'll vote me out right away. I've thought my strategy through, and decided to take a moderate approach. I plan on being friendly and helpful, and proving myself a useful member of the team. But I also plan on not standing out; from personal experience, I can tell you that showing off brings both positive and negative attention to yourself. I can't count entirely on my magic, because there are just too many things that would bring that unwanted attention. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to let myself get dirty and hungry, so I don't look different.  
  
The camera and sound guys have been sitting on the beach during my jog, but I'm afraid I'm not giving them any exciting footage. I head back to the shelter and peek in to find a couple of my tribemates awake. I whisper a quick "good morning," then wander over to the fire pit. Someone put one of our cooking pots upside-down over the fire last night, and when I remove it I find some embers still hot. After a quick scavenge along the edge of the jungle, I'm able to toss some dried palm fronds and sticks over the embers and bring the fire back to life without any magical assistance. I'm joined by my blonde friend, Anna, and the handsome dark-haired man who tried to start the fire last night. He re-introduces himself as Pete, a 25-year-old salesman. We both express our concern over Anna, who still seems ill.  
  
"It's nothing, guys. I don't do well on boats; I'm sure I'll feel better today."  
  
I nod in understanding. "The boats made me queasy, too." Of course, I can fix that problem with a few words. But much as I think I'd like Anna as a friend, I'm in this contest to beat her. Any signs of weakness means she'll be voted out that much faster.  
  
A perky girl with bright red hair emerges from the shelter and bids us all a good morning. "I don't know about you, but I could barely sleep through that snoring," she moans. She reminds me of Ginny Weasley in a way. I have to shake those thoughts out of my head; on the Granger plan, no friendships are allowed. I can't let anyone get too close.   
  
We get the cooking pot set up over the fire and start a batch of rice. We're starting the game with a couple of sacks, as well as some canned goods. It's obviously not enough to feed the entire team, but hopefully we can scavenge enough food from the land to make up the difference. By the time the food is done, the rest of the tribe has assembled for breakfast. We make small talk over rice; cementing everyone's names in our heads, getting to know each other a bit more, puzzling over the name of our tribe, Miti Matai. We settle on chores for the morning; the guys will finish up and reinforce our shelter, while Anna and a middle-aged woman named Ellen check the jungle for more fruits or edible vegetation. The redhead, Kiki, and I are assigned the fishing net, the boat and the lagoon. Perhaps the reasoning is that if there ARE sharks, we lovely young ladies will be so charming that they won't bite. We paddle out and spend an hour or so pulling the net behind us while a camera team floats alongside. Kiki and I chat about our first impressions of the other members of the tribe.  
  
"How about that Pete, he's quite a cute one." She giggles and again I'm reminded of Ginny.  
  
"Yeah, I can see it. Did you notice how Anna's still not feeling well? I'm afraid she's going to stay sick the entire time." I feel a twinge of guilt at planting seeds like this. I'm not the best at deception; otherwise I might have been out in the field spying instead of working a desk in Intelligence. I could never have done what those brave souls managed -- working and living with Death Eaters, and passing secrets to our sides. Many of them lost their lives. Many others remain a mystery -- their codenames shrouded their true identities, so that if an Intelligence operative were caught, they couldn't identify the spies in Voldemort's midst. Those were the most exciting agents; sometimes their bravery would take your breath away.  
  
We head back in after an hour of fruitless fishing. I'd decided not to lure any fish into the net the first try, so as to not appear amazingly gifted at fishing. I tie off the boat and prepare to be the life-bringer of the tribe in another way. I grab one of the water cans and the map to our water source.  
  
"Anyone want to go get water with me?" Most of the tribe members are into their own projects, but Pete and Kiki come along with water jugs of their own. The trek to the source takes about ten minutes through the jungle. One minute, there's a wall of vegetation in front of me and the sound of flowing water. The next minute, we've passed through a cluster of vines to find a beautiful river. Upstream a bit there's a lovely green pool that looks very deep, with a small waterfall at the head. We fill the water jugs, then take a dip in the pool. The water is warmed from the sun near the surface, but down by my feet I can feel it's quite a bit colder. After a splash-fight, we get out and head back to camp. Of course, I mutter a quick spell to make my full jug of water weigh very little. But I act like it's heavy.  
  
Back in camp, we decide to spend the rest of the day relaxing. Tomorrow comes the first challenge, and we figure we need to keep our strength up in order to start big. Our shelter is enough to keep out rain, and the men have enlarged it a bit. We split a few fruits and more rice, and talk about everything and nothing at all until bedtime. 


	3. Day Three

Day Three  
  
  
It rained last night, but we stayed remarkably dry in our shelter. I find out that it's mostly thanks to Geoff, the oldest member of Miti Matai at 49 and an architect by trade. The other fellow in our group, who I hadn't been able to speak with much yet, sits next to me at breakfast so we can get to know each other. He's a nice enough chap with average looks, a bartender named Chet. What a surprise. Seems like there's at least one bartender on every season of this show. Fortunately, he's not a bartender who wants to be an actor. This one's a bartender who wants to be an artist.  
  
We know it's a challenge day, so Kiki and Ellen head to the end of the beach to inspect the tiny "mailbox" for our first clue. They return with a rolled-up document containing a rhyme with a double-entendre about balance; basically, those who don't keep their balance will upset the balance between the tribes. Not very witty, but it puts across a harsh truth. One tribe, after tonight, will be down to seven players. During my morning chores, I have to put some serious thought into how I want to play the challenge. Most likely, I can subtly influence the play of the game to bring my tribe out on top. But I know that Anna is still sick and acting miserable, so it might be a mercy to allow her to get off the island. I know that once we lose six players total, the two tribes will merge into one tribe of ten. Usually, it's a fair split of 5-5. Do I even want to try influencing the games at all? Would it help me to meet five other people, or would it help to keep my tribe intact and enter the merge with a stunning 8-2 lead?  
  
I decide that the less magic, the better. To keep all suspicion away, I'll merely make an attempt to go into the merge at an even 5-5. I'm even going to let today's game play out naturally, just to gauge both teams' strengths without magical interference. After a morning of gathering fruits, leaves and roots and an exciting lunch of rice, one of the cameramen indicate it's time to go to the challenge. It's about a half-hour walk through the jungle, then we emerge onto another beach with some strange wood-and-rope apparatus and the ever-plastic Marcus Nash.  
  
We gather on what looks like a green carpet with the show's logo. The opposing team emerges from the trees across the beach and make their way to their orange carpet. Marcus welcomes us both to the challenge and talks briefly about the first two days on the island.  
  
"So, we have Miti Matai, which in Tahitian means 'sea wind,' and Fetia Rai, which means 'starry sky.' I'm sure you two tribes have had a good couple of days getting to know each other. Unfortunately, tonight, one of your tribes will lose a member. Today's challenge is a combination of a ropes course and an obstacle course." Marcus continues to describe the game; it involves climbing and crossing ropes, and has to be done one person at a time. The first team to have all players cross the finish line wins.  
  
We line up, and I'm third from the end. I'll be able to watch the first five members of my tribe cross the course, and learn from their mistakes. This also gives me a chance to check out the members of the opposing team. Overall, they look like a similar age range as ours -- early 20s to perhaps early 50s. There are a couple of nice looking men. I tell myself that I can look to my heart's content, but I'm certainly not allowed to feel anything for any of these people. I have no idea which ones will make it to the merge, so it's best to not pick any of them to like. We begin the race, and I watch from the rear of the line as our team slowly loses ground to Fetia Rai. Anna falls off the course and has to go back to the beginning, thus cementing my feeling that she's definitely going home early. Marcus is calling out a running commentary as the race continues, praising the successful players while bringing sharp attention to mistakes like Anna's.  
  
My turn comes up, but I can already tell we're going to lose this one. I'm number five in line, and Fetia Rai's sixth player is just ahead of me on the course. He's a well-built, handsome blond man wearing no shirt and already sporting a decent tan, which makes it easy for me to follow him quickly along the course. Thankfully, I make it off the end of the course before I hear Marcus praise the man.  
  
"Good speed, Draco! Fetia Rai is still one player ahead, with only two left to cross!"  
  
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. That's a name I haven't heard since I left school, and I figured I'd be able to live a long, healthy life without ever hearing it again. I make my way closer to the Fetia Rai group, while keeping an eye on my own team's progress and shouting encouragement to our last players. The mysterious Draco keeps his back to me as he cheers his own team. Damn! Turn around, man!  
  
The race ends with a Fetia Rai victory. They let out a cheer and rush over to Marcus to claim the immunity idol. As they congratulate each other, I manage to catch a glimpse of the blond man. Aquiline nose, silver eyes, a hint of a smirk in his victorious smile.  
  
It can't be.  
  
But it is.  
  
I have no clue what Malfoy is doing among these Muggles. After seven years of being called "Mudblood" and worse, I figured he wouldn't touch a Muggle with a ten-foot pole. And yet, here he is, hugging them and cheering them. And playing my game. And obviously planning on winning my game. And looking incredibly good, but that's neither here nor there.  
  
My formerly good chances of winning definitely need to be recalculated.  
  
As we trek back through the trees to our beach, I realize that Marcus never called me out by name for anything. I know I look different, and Malfoy didn't look at me with any recognition. For now, I have the upper hand. But I can't count on Marcus complimenting everybody but me. I'll have to assume my name will be mentioned at the reward challenge, two days away, and then Malfoy will know I'm here on the island. That gives me two days to go over my options and perhaps change my strategy. I have to assume he's using magic just as I am, but I also have to assume he can't use it much MORE than I can. With the cameras always watching, it would be too dangerous to let something slip. If I survive the Tribal Council tonight, I'm going to have a hard couple of days of thinking.  
  
We barely have time for dinner before it's time to head back out. The Tribal Council beach is a good hour's walk away, and thankfully everyone is chattering so I don't obsess over Malfoy's presence here on Unknown Island. I hold up my end of the conversation, trying my best to appear friendly, witty and sparkling. Pete catches my eye, grins and winks at me. At least I don't have to worry about a vote from him; he's been trying to flirt with me most of the day. I'm not terribly worried -- watching Anna trudge slowly along, I'm pretty sure how tonight's vote is going to turn out.  
  
Marcus is waiting for us at Tribal Council, wearing a fresh khaki shirt and shorts. It cracks me up that he wears that safari getup, when he's probably spending every night in a luxurious room with no bugs, creepy critters, or snoring Bobs. As we enter, we all take a torch and light them as he recites his standard spiel about fire representing life on the island. Blah, blah, blah, Marcus. Let's get on with it. Then comes the question-and-answer session, which shows he's been watching the daily footage to find out what's going on in camp. He asks several tribe members about their first three days, then it's my turn.  
  
"Hermione, how have you felt about the tribe these three days? Is everyone pitching in, or are there some people who are slacking?" I can feel the cameramen staring down their lenses at me.  
  
"Well," I pause to look thoughtful, "I think everyone's putting as much effort as they can into the chores around camp. But probably some people aren't able to do as much as others." I see a couple of heads nod out of the corner of my eye, and I'm fairly certain we're all on the same page.  
  
We head up to vote, one by one. I write Anna's name on my paper, and hold it up to the camera. "You've been nothing but nice, but you seem really tired, and I worry that you're going to hold the team back. I really hope we can meet up again in the outside world." I fold and stuff, and head back to my seat. After the last vote, Marcus heads over and grabs the container full of votes. He brings them back and lets us know that the results of the vote are final, and the person voted out will have to leave the Tribal Council area immediately. Even though I'm mostly sure about the vote, I still feel a little nervous.  
  
Anna. Bob. Anna. Anna. Anna. Anna. Five votes out of eight are all she needed, and Anna's torch is snuffed out. She may well be the one who voted for Bob. Or the other two votes in the container may have both been for him, too. I doubt it, though. I've always suspected that a producer goes through the votes and arranges them in the most dramatic way possible. If Bob had earned three votes, the count would have gone 3-3, then the last two Anna votes would have been called.  
  
On the way back to our beach, Bob seems a little tense. I can understand why; he'll probably be gone fairly soon, just because of the snoring. He could be the nicest guy in the world, but when you keep the rest of the group awake at night, nice just isn't enough. He's probably also wondering about who voted for him. We're all very tired when we get back, and most of the tribe falls asleep quickly. I can't help but wonder what I'm going to do about Malfoy, but I need my sleep too. I silently mouth a sleeping spell, and drift off. 


	4. Day Four

Day Four  
  
  
After another morning jog on the beach, and some quality alone time, I'm still not sure what I'm going to do about Malfoy. I have until tomorrow to come up with a plan, but the sooner I know my approach, the better. I prefer to be prepared.   
  
I've decided to get some fish today, since the ordinary technique of merely fishing with a net has brought us absolutely nothing. Today, I go out in the boat with Chet and Ellen. We're slowly starting to fall into roles around camp. In her mid-forties, Ellen has fallen into something of a motherly role with the rest of us. I suspect that Pete the salesman has decided he's the leader of the group, but I don't know if anyone else would agree with that. Pete, however, feels like he can throw his opinion in on any matter, whether or not he has expertise in the area. I let him flirt with me, because that's good strategy. But personally, I find him to be one of those "pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside" people. Kind of like my good buddy Malfoy.  
  
We trawl with the net for a while, and when Chet and Ellen both turn to look back at the shoreline, I lean over the edge (thrusting my transfigured-wand-clad breasts at the water) and whisper, "icthos proxima." A school of fish arrives underneath the boat, and two of them are caught in our net. We all laugh and cheer ourselves for our superior fishing skills.  
  
Over a lunch of fish and rice, we tell tales of our families and upbringing. I have to be careful about the lies I tell -- I can't very well regale them with stories of my escapades at Hogwarts. At least I have a nice, common Muggle job to describe, and nice, common Muggle parents to praise. I talk about my low pay and mediocre flat, just to emphasize to these people, should they eventually end up on the jury, that I really need and deserve the money. Even though I promised myself I wouldn't make any friends, I find myself liking young Kiki. With her shocking red hair and enthusiasm, I can't help but think of Ginny. Kiki's only a year younger than Ginny, and two years younger than me. It's a personal challenge to keep from liking her too much. Geoff the architect is easier to distance myself from; he and Ellen are our only team-mates in their 40s, and while Ellen has gone into mothering mode, Geoff acts standoffish. Even though we're all adults, I get the feeling he thinks he's superior to all of us "young people." He's not exactly a popular favorite, but he puts in his fair share of work, so at this point there's not too much to complain about. Bob and Chet make up the 30s contingent, but since Chet's an aspiring artist at 32 and Bob's a pudgy family man at 38, they don't have very much in common. That leaves us twentysomethings: Kiki, Pete and myself. It's a fascinating sociological mix you'd probably never find anywhere else, and when I get back, I'm going to owl Hogwarts and recommend viewing the show as part of Muggle Studies. See how Muggles get along without magic, even without their regular Muggle innovations like electricity! Marvel at how Muggles meet and greet other Muggles they don't know! And hopefully, watch the witch as she beats the Muggles at their own game!  
  
The afternoon chores go by uneventfully. The absence of Anna doesn't weigh too heavily on the group; in this game, we don't have time to mourn those who have left. Now that the shelter is finished, the food-gathering and fire-tending can be more easily spread around the seven of us, giving us all more time to lay in the sun, swim in the sea and explore. There's a water run in the late afternoon, and we all have a fun time jumping off the short waterfall into the pool. Even Geoff takes a turn; maybe he feels he needs to ingratiate himself into the group a bit more.  
  
After dinner, we sit around in relative silence. After such a fun day, it's hard to not put thought into the fact that we're still in a competition, and we may well be voting someone out in two nights. But none of these people also has to think about the most challenging competitor: Malfoy. As I lay in the shelter with my head on my wonderful pillow, I can't help but remember what a complete ass he was in school. Never a nice word or a kind act. Always trying to get Ron or Harry or me in trouble. I thought about the war between Light and Dark, and realized I hadn't heard anything about Malfoy during the entire war. He was probably just another of Voldy's minions, faithfully Death-Eating in his Death-Eater way. Heck, he was probably driven out of the wizarding world after Voldemort's defeat, homeless and Knutless, and that's why he's stuck here with the Muggles. I'm smiling in the dark, and as I drift off, I realize what approach I should take with Malfoy at tomorrow's reward challenge. 


	5. Day Five

Day Five  
  
  
Due to Bob's snoring, we're all up with the sun as usual. It's going to be a hot day, as it's already almost uncomfortably warm this morning. Kiki and I head down to our mailbox and bring back a hideous wooden roach with a rhyme written on the belly. I've watched the show enough to know that this will probably be the gross-food-eating competition. It's an early one; we only have enough time to cook breakfast before we're told to head into the jungle.  
  
As we trudge through the trees, I think about how I'll be treating Malfoy. I know that it's dangerous to make assumptions, but I can only work with the facts I have at hand. He's in the Muggle world, when all he's ever done is hate Muggles. He wasn't in the Ministry, and I didn't hear his name as being on our side in the war. I'm left to guess that he was on the losing side, and was banished or run off. If it was banishment, I may have an even better advantage -- it's possible they broke his wand, and he's stuck here without magic. But for safety's sake, I'll consider it a given that he has some kind of magic working for him, until proven otherwise. Meanwhile, I was on the winning side of the war, and he HAS to know that. I would have died before joining Voldemort's side. So since I already know about his presence on the island, I've decided to act like I'm shadowing him. As soon as Marcus says my name or identifies me so that Malfoy knows who I am, then I'll smirk at him and stare him down. I've got to keep him confused; am I here to play the game, or am I here to keep an eye on him? Did I just find out he's on the island, or have I been watching him for months? We won't have a chance to speak until the merge, which is still a full two weeks away. I have no doubts that he'll make it to the merge; he was always charismatic, even when he was being an evil little git. But if I play my cards right, I can spend that two weeks turning him into a nervous wreck. All we get are glances between the two teams at this point. I've got to make every bit of eye contact count.  
  
Plastic Marcus is waiting in a clearing in the woods, standing in front of a table. Our colored carpets await us, and I see all of the Fetia Rai team studying us to see who was voted out. My eyes are drawn to Malfoy; that blond hair is like a beacon. He looks us over, and his eyes graze over me. Actually, I can tell where his eyes graze, and it's a certain area where I'm wearing my wand these days. He must see something he likes, because his eyes linger on my chest for a moment before they move on. The dirty scumbag didn't even look at my face; it fills me with enough loathing that I'm more than ready to start my plan.  
  
Marcus announces the game, which is indeed the traditional Eating of the Gross. We'll each take a turn at the table, consuming a yet-to-be-named item. Some of them will be familiar, some of them will be disgusting. The other team has to sit out a member to bring us even, and a short woman identified as Sheryl leaves her mat and sits on a rock at the side. As soon as Marcus calls up the first pair, I know that today will be my unmasking day.  
  
"Okay, first up! Pete from Miti Matai and George from Fetia Rai!" Pete is up against a broad-shouldered and VERY hairy guy. They're both served plates containing a single grub, and both down them admirably. As the competition continues, I move myself back one place in line so that I'm up with Malfoy. After two more pairs, we step up.  
  
"Draco from Fetia Rai and Hermione from Miti Matai." As Marcus reaches under the table for the next food, I turn my head and look directly at Malfoy. The shock in his silver eyes is delicious. I put on my best smirk and turn calmly back to Marcus, who has brought up two covered plates. Marcus tries to put us on edge about the contents of the plates, but I'm feeling so smug at Malfoy's shock that I could probably wolf down anything right about now. It turns out to be a ruse, as the covers are removed to reveal a piece of chocolate. I grin and grab my piece of chocolate. I eat it slowly, licking my fingers to get every morsel, and turn to Malfoy again, giving him another broad smile before returning to my team. They clap me on the back, commenting on my luck with the food. The next pair up has to choke down five roaches each, and the girl from Fetia Rai doesn't look too good. Bob wolfs down his roaches like a trouper, but his challenger runs over to a bush and is promptly sick. The teams finish the rest of the foods together, giving us the challenge by one. Our reward item, ironically, is fishing gear: a mask, snorkel, spear, fishing line and some hooks. Guess I won't be needing my fish-luring spell anymore, unless the members of my team prove particularly inept. I spend the rest of Marcus' speech staring straight ahead, but as my tribe starts back for our beach, I turn my head and find Malfoy's confused eyes again. I pause for a moment, then give him a tiny nod of my head, circle back around and leave with my tribe.  
  
If today was just a taste, the next two weeks are going to be a lot of fun. I'll most likely have to reorganize my plans after the merge, and we can speak to each other. But I'll worry about that later. Right now, I'm so pleased with Malfoy's reaction, I can barely keep from skipping back to our beach.  
  
I'm still happy at dinner that night. Pete sidles over next to me and gives me his best "I'm a handsome fellow" smile.  
  
"Hey, Hermione. You sure look happy. What's up?" He wiggles a bit closer.  
  
"Oh, just pleased that we won the challenge today, I guess." I give him a winning smile, because I can't afford to alienate anyone this early in the game. But I could probably spit in Pete's face and he wouldn't get the hint, he's so into himself as Mr. Perfection.  
  
"Aw, I thought it was just because I was nearby." I give him my best fake "you're brilliant" laugh, turn to Kiki and roll my eyes. She grins back, because Pete's been giving her the same suave routine.  
  
Kiki and I make sure we're the last to turn in for the night, so we can pick a spot on the opposite side of the shelter from Pete. He pouts at us, so I give him a shrug, indicating that the only open spaces are over here on this side. We then lay down and stifle our giggles. 


	6. Day Six

** Thank you to those who have left reviews. You're lovely! **  
  
Day Six  
  
  
Kiki and I are on water duty this morning, and for once our conversation turns from the trivialities of our outside lives to our strategies for the game. I'm not entirely sure I trust her, but of all the players on my team, she's the one I not only trust the most, she's the one I like the most.  
  
"What do you think," she hesitantly starts, "about the game so far?"  
  
I put a little bit of thought into it before I answer. "Well, of course, we're all in this because we think we have what it takes to make it to the end. But I don't see some of these people making it all the way."  
  
"Hermione, I think we're probably on the same wavelength on a lot of these guys. Look at Bob, his snoring is going to get him voted out no matter how nice he is. And Geoff's bad attitude isn't making him any friends."  
  
"Yeah, they'll probably go pretty quick, unless one of the rest of us screws something up. But let me ask you," I wrinkle my nose in disgust, "about Pete."  
  
Kiki lets out with a laugh and a snort. "That guy is so lecherous! What does he think he is, God's gift to women?" She fills her water jug pensively. "I almost worry a little about him, he's so forward with his...attentions. Maybe it would be for the better if he were voted off quickly, as well." She looks at me with a crafty smile.  
  
"I guess the only way to ensure these votes would be if we were to arrange our targets beforehand, and try to influence some of the others." I hold out my hand to her. "Do you want to agree to work as a team, at least until the merge?" Kiki grins and shakes my hand.  
  
I make sure her water jug feels a bit lighter on the way back.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Today's immunity challenge involves swimming. Fortunately, I'm a fairly good swimmer. Some of these others, I'm not too sure about. We have to trudge about three miles through the underbrush until we come out at yet another sandy beach. The ocean is very mild here, just as it is at our camp. I can see another reef far out in the distance, or perhaps it's an extension of the same reef that keeps our lagoon placid. Plastic Marcus is already perched like a king on his throne, sitting on a camp chair on a platform a few hundred feet out into the water. Since the platform is also the location of our colored rugs, we slog out into the water.  
  
Geoff mutters sharply under his breath, "take your time to get out there, don't wear yourselves out just getting to the challenge site." Thank you, Captain Obvious. I had no idea my father was here on the island.   
  
For the most part, we're doing the doggy-paddle or a relaxed breaststroke. We've barely started when I can hear the Fetia Rai players behind us. I don't want to turn around while swimming; I'll have to wait until we reach the platform before I can give Malfoy the hairy eyeball.  
  
The lagoon water is a nice, mild temperature; it's almost a shame to get out and onto the platform. I shake my curly hair at Kiki like a dog, and make her laugh. It's a hot day, and I can already feel the drops of water drying on my skin. As the last members of my team are getting out of the water, the first members of Fetia Rai are climbing onto the platform. Malfoy is second out of the water. That means he's either wasted a lot of energy to get out here, or he's in very good shape. I'm pretty sure it's because he's in very good shape, and when I say very, I mean to say Very. I decide that it will be intimidating to look at him like he's a piece of meat, because suddenly I'm enjoying giving him a thorough inspection. I don't think I ever saw him shirtless while in school. Thank goodness, because if I had, I might not have been able to hate him so much. Nice muscular torso, trim legs, baggy swim trunks (which I find much sexier than a Speedo). He already has a rich tan, which makes his blond hair stand out even more. Plus, the whole glistening-skin thing from the water. Malfoy grew up to be quite the bit of eye candy. Such a pity that he's an ass.  
  
He slowly looks over toward me. I'm waiting to see the worry, the concern, the confusion in his eyes. What a surprise to see something entirely different. He slowly looks me up and down with saucy, lustful eyes. Then he looks straight into my eyes and is expression changes. It's the most neutral face I've ever seen on anyone. I can't read anything from his stare, and I can't do anything but stare back. What am I supposed to make of this? Did he come to terms with my presence so totally and completely in the course of a single day? Or is he desperately trying to play my mind-game back at me?  
  
Marcus starts to explain the game, and we both tear our gazes away so we can listen attentively. It's a simple enough contest, a relay in which every player must dive down to the seafloor and retrieve a flag in their team's color. Fetia Rai's flags are off the left side of the platform, and ours are over to the right. Since Fetia Rai has one person too many, they have to sit out a player. A small-framed man, who seems already exhausted from the swim out to this dock, raises his hand and sits on the hard wood next to the Marcus Nash Chair of Comfort. Seven against seven, the challenge begins. I'm the first one into the water, for good reason; I've decided to use magic on this one to keep the tribes even. I swim down into the water and am able to say a spell without being heard. The green flags of Miti Matai suddenly glow brightly, in a way that can be seen by the human eye underwater, but cannot be recorded on film or seen in the sunlight. I grab the first flag, swim up, tag Chet, and climb out as he dives in next to me.  
  
As the players jump in one by one, Miti Matai builds a steady lead. By the time our seventh player enters the water, Fetia Rai is only on their fifth. We win the challenge easily, and Marcus passes us the immunity idol. I push wet hair out of my face and look over to Malfoy. He meets my gaze steadily again, then does something most unexpected.  
  
He winks. Malfoy winks at me. What the hell is up with that?  
  
He then wiggles his eyebrows and glances quickly at the scrawny man who stayed out of the challenge, and I understand. He gave me this one, because Fetia Rai needs to thin the herd.  
  
We dive back into the water after we get the all-clear from the production staff, and swim back to the beach. As the teams head in opposite directions back to camp, I look back over my shoulder, in time to catch Malfoy looking at my ass. He looks up at my eyes quickly, but knows he's been caught. Interesting. At least if I can't intimidate him with my mere presence here, perhaps I can figure out another way to keep him distracted and off balance. 


	7. Day Eight

Day Eight  
  
I've spent the last two nights tossing restlessly, and the last two days deep in thought. I know I should be paying more attention to this game, but I can't stop thinking about Malfoy.  
  
He obviously isn't concerned in the least that I'm here. His flirtatious demeanor has me convinced of that. But not only does it make winning the game a little more difficult, it makes me angry as well. Obviously, if he's not concerned about my presence, he's also not concerned about being able to beat me at this game.  
  
I was dangerously close to being antisocial yesterday. Kiki took me aside to ask what was wrong; apparently I've set myself up as being a friendly and amusing person, and I was, as she put it, "eerily quiet" at lunch. I made up an excuse about not sleeping well the night before, which was not that far from the truth. I felt like I woke up every few minutes with the lingering dream image of a pair of silver eyes staring at me, then I would lay awake listening to the ballad of Bob's snores until exhaustion claimed me again.  
  
Was it just three days ago I was eagerly anticipating seeing Malfoy? So I could give him my superior smile and make him quake in his sandals? And all it took was a wink, a few looks, and an eye-undressing to make me loath to see him again. Oh, I want to see him again. But only if he's placed on the sand, wearing only his swim trunks, with a blindfold on. His eyes have lost none of their piercing quality over the years, and his body has gained many, many positive attributes. Then again, I'm hardly the ugly duckling I used to be in school; the Granger determination has helped me exercise away any physical flaws. I certainly don't have the perky cuteness of a Ginny Weasley, or of Kiki, for that matter. But I've made a head or two turn in my day. Of course, making the head turn has never been worth a million in cash before.  
  
Anyway, since planning ahead hasn't helped me so far, I've decided that whatever Malfoy throws at me, I'll just throw right back. And I can't let myself worry about him. Which means trying not to think about him. Which is becoming something of a personal Mission Impossible.  
  
Today's reward challenge is a mental one: assembling a huge puzzle on the sand. Malfoy's team is there before us, for the first time. He's watching me from the moment we step into the clearing. I made the decision to wear just my bikini top and low-rise shorts, which was apparently a good move. He's looking at me like I'm a steak and he's a starving man. It's an almost ironic coincidence, since we've been eating mostly rice for the last week, and we're competing today for a feast of fruits, cheese, crackers, and cans of the Sponsor Carbonated Beverage. The food looks good, and I'm torn whether or not to use magic to win this one. I'd love to eat, but keeping my teammates hungry will make them easier to beat later. Not that I'm less hungry, but I've trained myself to keep a clearer head on fewer calories. I decide to let the fates decide. If Malfoy needs to cheat on this one either way, I'll let him.  
  
Marcus gives us the go, and we start assembling the puzzle. I keep an eye on the progress of the other team, and we seem fairly well matched on this one. It helps to have Marcus giving a continuous running commentary on both teams' progress. I'm also watching Malfoy to figure out if he has his wand, and if so, where he's hiding it, and also if so, if he's using it. I realize I was foolish to not include magic trackers in my training and spell casting regimen. But how was I to know there would be anyone here but Muggles? I'd give half of the winning million right now for a time-turner, so I could arm myself better against Malfoy. It would be immensely helpful to know if he's casting anything, and what particular spells he's using. I can only hope that he's equally unprepared.  
  
Marcus suddenly yells out that Fetia Rai has won the challenge. We drop the puzzle pieces in our hands and politely applaud their victory. Their team practically attacks the trays of food, grabbing whatever is nearest. Malfoy looks up over the heads of his feasting teammates and finds my eyes. He slowly puts a drippy slice of peach in his mouth, then licks the juice off his fingers, all the while holding my gaze.  
  
I suddenly feel very hot. It must be the exertion from the challenge. Or the heat of the day.   
  
Definitely the heat of the day. 


	8. Day Nine

Day Nine  
  
  
Another day divisible by three, another immunity challenge. But Day Nine also means almost halfway to Day Nineteen, the day that the remaining members of our two tribes will merge. The day I'll actually be able to speak to Malfoy, to find out why he's here, so I can figure out some way to beat him.  
  
In some ways, the days are flying by. At other times, time seems to almost come to a standstill. I'm wavering between desperation and desperation; first I'm desperate for the next nine days to speed up, so I can find out what's going on in the brain behind those silver eyes. Then I'm desperate for the next nine days to be the longest nine days since the dawn of time, to delay the moment when I'm going to have to actually get close to that handsome face and golden body. I'm perfectly willing to admit, he's turned out gorgeous. But I have to stop thinking about his sexiness and start thinking about his evilness...which is turning out to be the biggest personal challenge yet.  
  
Since I get to see Malfoy again today (Get to? I mean AM FORCED to! Malfoy is not some sort of yummy treat!), the time until challenge flies by. Seems like we barely had time to make a water run, and we have to head off to meet Marcus and Fetia Rai. On our way through the jungle, I manage to end up walking next to Kiki.  
  
I lean toward her as we walk, and whisper so only she can hear. "Hey, thinking ahead?"  
  
She gives me a sideways glance, and whispers back, "why do you ask?"  
  
"I've been checking out the members of the other tribe, to try and figure out where their strengths and weaknesses lie. We're going to end up merged with them, after all."  
  
"Gotcha," she mutters. "I'll give them the eyeball today, we can talk later."  
  
"Ladies, lovely ladies! Would you like to share with the class? Oh, but if you're discussing my devastating good looks, I may blush." Pete swaggers up between us and throws an arm around our shoulders. It's all I can do to keep from punching him in the stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kiki flinch under his touch.  
  
"Gee, Pete, it wouldn't be nice to single out anyone. I think ALL the men of Miti Matai are great fellows." I manage to speak without gritting my teeth, which is quite an accomplishment, considering my frustration. Not only can I not finish speaking to my alliance partner, but now we've been called out as conspirators in front of the rest of the tribe.  
  
Of course, just then we emerge into the competition clearing. Fetia Rai is already there on their mat. And of course, Malfoy's eyes find me instantly. And here I am, with one of Pete's arms slung around me like we're the oldest and best of chums. Malfoy raises one eyebrow with amusement. Before I can stop myself, my sarcastic nature takes over, and I roll my eyes back at him while shrugging Pete's hand off my shoulder. Malfoy cracks a genuine smile, and I have to look away; he's especially good-looking when he's smiling. I have to remember to encourage a glower, a smirk or a scowl from now on. Kiki has also worked her way out from Pete's clutches, and we find our way to the opposite side of our green rug.  
  
Marcus explains the rules of today's game, and shows us two enormous spiderwebs of ropes wound at waist height around wooden posts. We're each tied by the wrist to various points on the ropes, and we have to unwind the web around the posts and each other until the entire length of rope is free. He gives us the signal to start, and pretty quickly I realize that this is a very diabolical puzzle. Without teamwork, we could not only NOT untangle ourselves, we could get into even more confusing knots. Geoff is on one side of me, and Ellen is also nearby. With quick discussion of our moves, I hop over one rope and hold my arm up so Geoff can cross underneath the rope attached to my wrist. Then Ellen amazes me by squeezing in between two lengths of rope. Our end of the puzzle is much looser, and we each find another teammate to unwind. I'm now nearer to Bob, and between the two of us, we almost completely free ourselves. This one is so confusing, I haven't even thought about using a spell, not that I would know what one to use. I think we're doing pretty well, until Marcus breaks his running commentary with the ugly phrase, "that's it! Fetia Rai wins immunity!" We all look over in shock, to see the other tribe all unwound and standing in a line with their rope laid out on the ground. I look to Malfoy, and the smirk is back. He makes a motion to me that is unmistakable, but would make no sense to Muggles -- the casual "swish, flick" of his hand, holding an imaginary wand, that we learned so long ago in school.  
  
Well, question number one answered. He has his wand. And question number two. He is indeed using magic to "cheat," just as I am.  
  
And now I have to find Kiki, and discuss our answer for tonight's question: who's leaving?  
  
* * * * *  
  
It's not easy to find private time. We get dinner together when we return to camp, then sit around the fire eating. Kiki and I are communicating mostly in glances. I look at her across the fire and raise my eyebrows in a questioning manner. She looks down at the fire briefly, then flicks her eyes quickly at Bob before looking down again. It was also my choice; over a week of hearing him snore all night is more than enough. Add in that he's out of shape, takes a lot of "rest breaks," and has only hiked into the jungle for water once, and he's probably everyone's logical choice. Kiki looks back at me, and I nod slightly. We're on the same page. Now, if we can each convince one other person to follow our vote, we have a majority. After dinner, Kiki and Ellen take the cooking pot down to the lagoon to rinse it out. Before I can decide on my choice of conspirator, Pete grabs my arm and pulls me over toward the shelter. He grabs some loose palm fronds from the roof and pretends to straighten them out.  
  
"I know you and Kiki are teaming up. Don't try to deny it."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about. Even if we were teaming up, and I'm not saying we are, it's all part of playing the game." Oh, I'm so clever! I should have been a secret agent during the war! Granger, when will you learn to just shut up, smile and shake your head?  
  
He gives me a sly smile. "You should let me in. You know I'm going to outlast most of these people. Maybe if you're nice, I'll take you to the finals with me."  
  
I actually consider his offer. Distasteful as I personally find him, he's strong and seems to be on the good side of most of the other players. I think only Kiki and I get to see his lecherous side; to the rest of the team, he puts on a friendly, innocent act. But he's right, he'll probably go a long way in this game. But I can't make this decision alone, and tell him as much. I motion for him to follow me, and we find Kiki, back from her conversation with Ellen and wearing a smile on her face. I pull her back to the shelter, where the frond adjustment begins anew. As Pete makes his spiel, I roll my eyes at her.  
  
"So, ladies, what will it be? With the three of us working together, we'll make it to the end."  
  
"Well, I think we can trust you just as much as you trust us." I turn to Kiki, with my back slightly to Pete, and give her a broad wink. "This could definitely be advantageous to all of us. If we vote as a block, we can shape the tribe the way we want. I'm in, Kiki?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan. Let's decide who we're voting for tonight, then we can get together later to discuss future strategies." She says the last three words while looking directly into my eyes, and I understand. We'll accept Pete's offer now, then get together later and discuss what to do about him. We tell Pete about our plans to vote for Bob, and he lets us know that he was already planning on putting down Bob's name tonight.  
  
After dark, we make the trek to Tribal Council. As usual, Marcus makes some comments about how difficult our time on the island has been so far, and asks direct and pointed questions, proving once again that the production staff has reviewed footage of secret meetings and written Marcus a series of direct and pointed questions.  
  
This time it's Kiki's time to shine in the spotlight. "Kiki, what do you think will influence your vote tonight? Have you already made your decision? And have you discussed that decision with the rest of your tribe?"  
  
"Well, Marcus, I've thought about it a lot, and perhaps some people aren't working as hard as the rest of us. I think that may influence my vote. But the others are free to vote however they want." Very nice, truthful without being the flat-out truth. It's a shame I'm going to have to eventually be pitted against her, but I can't afford to let feelings of friendship get between me and the million that could help save the wizarding world. However, I plan on taking her with me as far as I can.  
  
One by one we hike up to the voting area, write down our chosen names, give our little speech to the camera, and return to the Council area. The only thing I can think of to say about my vote is, "I'm sure you're a very nice guy, but the snoring is driving us all batty."  
  
I don't feel as much suspense. I know Bob has at least four out of seven votes. As Marcus reads them, the only surprise is one slip with Geoff's name, in among four Bobs. Must have been Bob's vote. Of the four Bob votes read, mine isn't among them; Marcus tells us that four votes is enough, and he doesn't need to read the rest.  
  
Bob's torch is snuffed, he waves goodbye, and off he goes down the path. On the way back to camp, the main topic of conversation is we're not sure we'll be able to sleep in that much quiet. 


	9. Day Twelve

Day Twelve  
  
  
Kiki and I finally get a chance to go for water together, and therefore a chance to be alone and discuss strategy. We lost another reward challenge yesterday, bringing Miti Matai's losing streak to three in a row. Fortunately, the reward was for a combination shower stall and rain collector, so it really wasn't important to us. We can hop down to our water hole and rinse off in the waterfall. Fetia Rai was so excited, I'm guessing they only have a stretch of river for their water source. Since tonight is another immunity challenge, I'm definitely going to use magic to try and keep the tribes even.  
  
After filling our water jugs, Kiki and I leave them on the shore and swim to the far end of the pool. We hop out on the rocks and sun ourselves, keeping a clear view of the path from camp.  
  
"Well, what do you make of the other tribe?" I'd asked her to look them over, on the pretense of checking out their strengths and weaknesses.  
  
"They seem really together. They have great teamwork."  
  
"Does anyone stand out to you? Really weak, really strong?" I'm fishing, and I know it.  
  
"Hmm, that really hairy guy seemed to be in charge, he was directing the others a lot. Oh, and that blond fellow is really good looking! Did you see him?"  
  
Fish caught, reeling fish in! "I'm not sure, a blond guy?"  
  
"Oh, yeah! Nice tan, nice eyes...nice everything, actually. I think his name's David, or something with a 'D'. Gorgeous smile. Definitely give him a look."  
  
"I'll have to check him out today at the challenge," I smile. Let her think she's brought him to my attention, so I can scrutinize him without arousing her suspicion. Excellent. "Now, how about our Pete? The third member of our 'alliance'?"  
  
Kiki makes a sour face. "Well, he's obviously a disgusting pig, but the others seem to like him. I don't see any harm in stringing him along, being nice, until we hit the merge. Then we can maybe convince the other tribe that he's a really strong threat, and they'll get rid of him for us." This girl is devious, and I love it.  
  
We swim back over and return to camp with our water. After a quick lunch of rice and rice, it's time to go challenge for immunity again. Fetia Rai sits out a player, making a six-on-six challenge. Kiki makes eye contact with me, then flicks a glance toward Malfoy, encouraging me to "give him a look." By now, Malfoy and I almost have a system down. Eye contact, lecherous leering, body inspection, winking, raised eyebrows, smirking. His tan keeps getting deeper, which makes his blond hair seem to glow. I notice that while the other men on his tribe have several days' growth of beard, Malfoy's chin is clean-shaven. I hope that his luxury item is a razor, since I'd really have to hate him a lot more if he's risking discovery by vainly using magic on his face. Granted, I performed a no-hair spell on my legs before I came to Unknown Island, but many Muggle women have wax treatments that can keep the leg hair away for weeks at a time, too. I doubt Malfoy could cover up by telling his teammates he'd had a face wax.  
  
My time to leer is limited, however. We have to elect one team member to be our "eyes," and Geoff is selected to climb a short tower in the middle of the challenge area along with the very hairy fellow from Fetia Rai. Our lightest member, Kiki, is put on a stretcher. The other four of us are blindfolded, and now have to carry Kiki through an obstacle course with Geoff shouting directions. I'm given my blindfold, and as the production assistant walks away, I whisper a transparency spell at the cloth. When I put it around my eyes, I can see through it perfectly. I stand at my corner of the stretcher, waiting for the start of the contest. I look over at the Fetia Rai team, and see Malfoy at his corner of his stretcher, blindfolded, but with his face pointed directly at me. As a test, I make kissy lips at him. He grins and sticks out his tongue at me. I check around to make sure the cameras are far enough away, then whisper Malfoy's name and an opacity spell. Marcus yells at us to begin just as Malfoy's blindfold goes opaque. The shock on his face sends a thrill through me.  
  
Even though I'm sure Malfoy re-casts his spell, I still have a slight head start on him. As Geoff shouts out directions, I can also see where we're going, and lean or pull on my corner of the stretcher to get my team going the right way. After much staggering and surreptitious shoving, we make it across the finish line about five seconds ahead of Fetia Rai, and hear Marcus announcing us as the winners as we pull off our blindfolds and have a hearty group hug. I look past my teammates and find Malfoy, as usual, watching me.  
  
I grin and blow him another kiss. Distance mocking is beginning to grow on me. A shame we only have seven more days until we merge, and I have to start hating him again. 


	10. Day Fourteen

Day Fourteen  
  
  
A fortnight doesn't seem like that long. A mere two weeks. A piddling fourteen days. And yet, in some ways, it feels like I've been on this island for a year. I seriously doubt, once I get back to Real Life, that I'll be eating rice anytime soon. Even with the fruits the tribe gathers, and the fish I have the knack of catching, our diet is seriously limited. Sure, I could easily produce enough food for an incredible feast. But not only would that make the Muggles a tad bit suspicious, it would also give my teammates extra strength. In just a few days, we're no longer going to be competing as a team, and that's when I'll need all the other players to be feeling as weak and hungry as possible. Not only am I hungry, I also feel filthy. My hair is unpleasantly tangled, to say the least. Rinsing in the stream only helps so much; I desperately need a shampoo. I've started parting it in the middle and making two braids down the sides, which keeps the tangled mess out of my face for the most part.  
  
Food is the primary topic of conversation on the fishing boat this morning. Ellen and I are on the boat, dragging our net behind. Chet keeps resurfacing next to us in our reward snorkel and mask. I think he's trying to herd fish into the net, but he's not having any success. The tribe as a whole has failed to catch fish with our line and hooks, as well. The net has, so far, been our greatest fishing tool. I'm sure to never catch fish two days in a row, and I've actually cast my fishing spell from the shore, to make sure fish get caught when I'm not out in the boat. No need for the tribe to think I'm some sort of Magic Fish Girl.  
  
"Chet, you're just scaring the fish away," complains Ellen. Chet bats his eyes at her, then splashes her with water and submerges again. Ellen tries to look stern, but can't quite manage. It's amazing what a few nights of solid sleep can do for a tribe; on the whole, we're a lot friendlier and peppier since Bob left. Ellen is turned away, her eyes searching the shore. I decide to lean over and cast my fishing spell, but before I have a chance, she turns back and looks me in the eye. "Hermione, I want to ask you about Kiki."  
  
I try to keep a neutral expression on my face. "What do you want to ask?"  
  
"She talked to me right before we voted Bob out, and I had the feeling she'd already been talking to you. She didn't tell me who she was teamed up with, but she did tell me that 'other people' were already going to vote for Bob. You two seem to have become very close."  
  
"Well, we're close in age, and we have a lot in common. That doesn't necessarily mean we've teamed up." I just don't know how much to share with these people. I know I don't trust them, but I want to make them believe they can trust me.  
  
"I was just thinking." Ellen purses her lips and looks over to where Chet is swimming, several yards away from our boat. She lowers her voice to a near whisper. "It's three women and three men here now. Maybe we should think about voting together, in case the guys are planning to get rid of us one by one."  
  
Fascinating; everyone wants to play everyone against everyone else. Ellen is pretty sure about me and Kiki, but I realize she knows nothing about the agreement Kiki and I made with Pete. If she did, she wouldn't worry so much about a men against women vote; she should be more worried about younger versus older. I pretend to put some thought into Ellen's offer, then agree to side with her. We decide to talk to Kiki when we get back to shore. I'm not worried about making this particular alliance; our next vote has already been discussed, and it isn't her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The clearing in the jungle has a great canopy of trees overhead, making it pleasantly cool and shady. We make our way to a set of green benches next to a set of orange ones. Fetia Rai goes over to their orange benches at about the same time. Malfoy finds my eyes and gives me his traditional wink. I pick up one of my two braids of hair off my shoulders and wave it at him, earning one of his beautiful genuine smiles.  
  
Marcus hands each team a pouch, and we're surprised to find that the pouches hold actual cash. He announces that since we've been here two weeks, and are probably very hungry, he's going to hold a food auction. Each team is given a thousand, and can bid on items until the money or the items run out. Geoff immediately takes charge of the pouch of money. I check on Fetia Rai, and the burly, hairy guy who acts like their boss already has their pouch in his hands. As Marcus is preparing the first item, Pete scoots closer next to me and puts his hand on my leg. Hello, Mr. Inappropriate! I hear a choked cough from the orange seats, and find Malfoy stifling a laugh with his hand over his mouth. I turn to Pete, smile at him, pick his hand up off my leg and place it back on his own.  
  
Marcus shows us the first item, a big hamburger with chips and, as he puts it, "all the fixings." We bid up to three hundred, but Geoff convinces us to let it go to Fetia Rai at three-twenty. There could, after all, be better things coming. I don't think anything could taste better than that burger, which is being ravenously consumed by the other tribe. My stomach has decided to attempt bidding all by itself, given the grumbling noises it's putting forth. I keep my eyes on Marcus so I don't have to watch the torture of the other tribe eating.  
  
The next dish is a "surprise," hidden on a covered plate. Since Fetia Rai is still feasting on their prize, they let us have the mystery dish for a mere hundred and forty. Geoff takes the cash up to Marcus, who then reveals the most gorgeous hot fudge sundae I've ever seen. It's hustled back to us, and we proceed to use our spoons like shovels. I'm not proud of my sundae-attacking zeal, but oh my, it tastes fantastic. Next up, a platter of fresh vegetables and a couple of dipping sauces. Geoff is a smart bidder, and Fetia Rai takes it for three hundred. It leaves them with less than four hundred in their pouch, whereas we have over eight hundred left.  
  
Marcus tells us that the next item is the last for the auction, and we know we've got it won no matter what. He reveals a plate of Italian favorites; meatballs, ravioli, tortellini, all covered in red sauce and melted cheese. We bid our entire eight hundred and sixty dollars, and Geoff goes up to claim the prize. Marcus stops him, and adds, "it's not a real Italian meal without red wine." He reaches beneath the table and pulls out two bottles of house red as we all cheer. We shovel down the Italian and wash it down with a bottle of the wine. With our already fatigued state, we're fairly tipsy already, and decide to take the second bottle back to camp.  
  
I'm feeling a little lightheaded, and need to lean against the benches for a moment after I get up. Malfoy looks over as his tribe is getting ready to leave and gives me a worried look. I glare back at him. Bastard, trying to get me to think he's concerned about me. Kiki and I sling our arms around each other and set off in the direction of camp, giggling madly about nothing in particular. I can almost feel Malfoy watching me leave. I make sure to not give him the satisfaction of our standard goodbye winks or looks, as revenge for trying to mess with my mind. The last thing this frivolous exchange of ours needs is actual feeling. 


	11. Day Fifteen

Day Fifteen  
  
  
There's nothing like a hangover to make you yearn for yesterday's hunger and fatigue. Last night we finished off the rest of the wine while telling dirty jokes around the fire. This morning, I feel like my eyes have been rubbed with sandpaper and my head is being squeezed by a giant. The rest of the tribe is in similar shape; we're all practicing our moaning skills. But on the positive side, for the first time in two weeks, we're all relatively happy at the blandness of our breakfast rice.  
  
Chet proposes a trip to the waterfall for an invigorating "shower," so all six of us trudge through the jungle to the water source. After filling our jugs and canteens and setting them on shore, we jump into the cool water of the pool. I take the opportunity, while submerged, to mutter a quick hangover relief spell. It helps with the pain, but I'm still fairly tired from our late night. A rinse under the waterfall actually turns out to be refreshing, and after about a half hour, everyone is feeling somewhat better. It probably wasn't the best idea in the world to get drunk the night before an important challenge, but there's nothing we can really do to change things now. Well, I actually could cast the hangover relief spell over everyone, but I suspect that would blow my cover a tiny bit.  
  
We make it back to find our challenge information waiting in the mailbox, and the goofy rhyme on the clue sounds almost like a threat. For some reason, terms like "opposites attract" and "make friends with the enemy" don't exactly fill me with the greatest hope for today's challenge.  
  
* * * * *  
  
We arrive at the challenge site to fine Plastic Marcus, piles of colored wood blocks, and no sign of our traditional green mat. Instead, there are six green wooden squares on the sand, and across the way a matching set of orange squares. As we approach Marcus, he tells us to each stand on one of our tribe's squares. We settle in on our squares and await our instructions.  
  
"You've fought tribe against tribe in every previous challenge, but this one is going to be a bit different." He smiles in a shifty way that, were he a car salesman, would have me running to another lot immediately. "In this challenge, you'll be teaming up with a member of the opposite tribe for the first round. The two members of the winning team will then battle against each other, essentially making your entire tribe's fate rest on one member's performance." At this, we're all checking each other out in earnest. Malfoy catches my eye and gives me the traditional Malfoy Smirk. If I am paired up with that man, I'll take it as a sign that the Fates officially hate me.  
  
"You've already chosen your partners, by the way." Marcus indicates the boards under our feet. "If you'll all step off those boards, you'll find the numbers one through six, each one written in a different color. Your partner for this challenge is the member of the opposing tribe with the same number as you. Go ahead and pick up your numbers now." I step off my board, pick it up and hesitantly flip it over. There's a blue "3" painted on the underside. I look over to the other tribe, fully expecting Malfoy to be wearing the Smirk and holding a blue "3."  
  
I am not to be a victim of Fate Hate today, it seems. Malfoy has a red "5," to match Ellen. I look for the other blue "3," and find it in the hands of a middle-aged man. We meet up and shake hands.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
"Franklin. Nice to meet you." We stand next to a blue table with a large "3" painted on it.  
  
Once all pairs are at their tables, Marcus explains the game. We'll assemble a puzzle of wooden blocks, but all of the blocks are together in a big heap. One team member has to be touching the table at all times, and we can only bring one block back to the table at a time. Then, we have to take turns moving pieces until the blocks are in their proper places, assembled to show a Tahitian design. Marcus shouts at us to start, and we're off.  
  
To save time, Franklin and I quickly agree to take turns getting blocks. That way each person who retrieved a block will then be able to move a piece into place while the other is getting the next block. I dash over to bring back the first piece. While holding onto the table and placing my first block, I whisper a quick spell. The blocks must have been in the right order when they had the design painted on them, so it's just a matter of the blocks "remembering" where they go. Franklin brings back a block, and I'm off again. Back at the table, I notice that Malfoy and I are about even. I'm sure he has a similar spell, and we're probably well matched. It's just a matter of the speed and accuracy of the Muggle we're paired with, and I believe I have the advantage.  
  
On her last block, I see Ellen trip and fall down in the sand. We're slightly ahead. After eight trips each, we've assembled a square of blocks. All of mine are already in the right place, so it's a matter of each of us moving one of Franklin's blocks. One by one, we take turns moving blocks, and in a few moments the design appears intact on our table.  
  
"Done!" I shout to Marcus. Seconds later, as Marcus is jogging toward our table, Malfoy also indicates that they're finished. Marcus inspects our design and declares that Franklin and I have won the first round. I make eye contact with Malfoy and attempt to give him my own version of the Smirk. I believe I'm successful, since he suddenly looks like he's been sucking on a lemon.  
  
Franklin and I are now each given our own table, and instead of a grid of four by four, the blocks will be five by five. We have to fetch the twenty-five blocks one by one and assemble them to reveal an entirely different design. Marcus tells us to begin, and the race is on. I'm already faster than Franklin in the gathering phase, and by the time he has all of his blocks on or around his table, I've begun assembling the puzzle. I could easily put each piece in its place immediately, and the temptation is there. Instead, I keep a close eye on Franklin's progress and throw in a few mistakes in my assembly. My team is cheering loudly from the sidelines, shouting encouragement. Fetia Rai is likewise supporting Franklin, but it's a lost cause. Even with my well-placed errors, I finish ahead of him. The rest of Miti Matai rush over, grabbing me in a group hug and nearly deafening me with their cheers.  
  
Marcus presents us with the immunity idol, and we start back to camp. I look over my shoulder to give Malfoy a little goodbye wink, but he has his back to me as his tribe walks away. Then, without turning, he puts his hand up behind his back where I can see it and wiggles his fingers. He quickly turns it into a surreptitious back-scratch to avoid suspicion.  
  
No patented Smirk? No raised eyebrow? Just a finger-wave goodbye? It's almost a friendly gesture! This guy must be the absolute king of mind games, because he certainly has me wondering what the hell he's doing. It's almost torture, to not be able to go up to him and ask, "what's up with you, Malfoy?"  
  
Great. Now I'm going to dwell on him, which I'm sure is exactly what he wants me to do.  
  
Oh well. At least if I'm going to dwell, I can picture him shirtless while I do it. 


	12. Day Eighteen

Day Eighteen  
  
  
Kiki and I are resting in the shelter, out of the sun. It's another scorching hot day, and we've already made the water run, so the entire tribe is trying to stay cool and conserve energy for the upcoming immunity challenge. We're sharing my pillow, so we can chat with each other and not be overheard. I am also playing my new favorite game, Count Your Ribs. Not a very exciting game -- the answer is the same every time. But it's amazing to feel how much weight I've lost, and to see how much the rest of the tribe is losing. Since I've charmed myself to not feel the hunger as much, I worry about the rest of the tribe, who must be feeling it much more.  
  
"I think my stomach has sunk even further," I mutter to her.  
  
"Lucky. And you were so thin to begin with. I'm glad of the starvation, I could always stand to lose a few more pounds." I reach over and lightly smack her on the arm, causing her to giggle.  
  
"Don't say that, you were never overweight, not even on Day One."  
  
"Even if I wasn't, I've probably dropped at least ten pounds. I'm glad they didn't let us wear jewelry, my watch and rings would have fallen off somewhere." She stretches her arms above her head, then drops to a whisper. "So, tonight, we may lose immunity again."  
  
"Yeah. I figure same plan as last time, unless something unforeseen happens." Since Fetia Rai went to Tribal Council three days ago, we haven't been for six days. But we'd planned for our Day Fifteen votes, in case we lost the challenge. I raise my head to make sure no tribe members are around. "We'll talk again after the challenge, if we lose. But right now, I'm sticking with our previous decision."  
  
"Ok. I'll go let Ellen know." Kiki rises and exits the shelter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Eighteen days down. Five Tribal Councils, with a sixth to happen tonight. Right now we're ahead six to five, so if we lose immunity today, we'll still be even entering the merge.  
  
The Merge.  
  
It's taken on such an importance in my head, both words are now capitalized. Tomorrow our two tribes will become one, and the moment I've both anticipated and dreaded will come. I'll have a chance to speak to Malfoy. I'll have to be extremely careful, of course. We can't let any of the camera men, staff or players know that we're already well acquainted. There would just be too many questions. I can only hope that Malfoy has come to the same conclusion, or that I can get him to understand the need for secrecy. It's been easy to hide our glances, winks and smirks so far, but it will be a great deal harder to have conversations with no cameras watching.  
  
I know Malfoy's thinking about it a lot too -- at yesterday's reward challenge it felt like he was constantly looking at me. I didn't want to give him too much feedback. His change to friendliness is still weighing on my mind, and I don't quite understand why he'd take that particular tack. Until I can find out why, I'd rather not feed whatever game he's playing.  
  
I make sure that we catch three fish in our net for lunch. If I'm going to be heading into the most difficult part of the game, I want all the strength I can get.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Our mailbox contains the standard rhyming note, as well as a bow and arrow. Obviously it's going to be a challenge involving our shooting skills. For a couple of hours, we pass the bow around and practice shooting. It's a pretty pitiful performance all around, and I'm going to have to restrain myself from using too much magic. These people are terrible archers.  
  
We take the bow with us to the challenge site. Marcus is standing dramatically in front of a wall covered with various pieces of fruit. He explains that this is a combination of reward and immunity. Both teams will get to keep whatever fruit they manage to impale with arrows, but the first team to pierce ten pieces of fruit wins immunity.  
  
As the sides are unbalanced, we sit out our worst archer, Ellen. The rest of us are handed our arrows. One by one we step up to the firing line and try to shoot straight. The Fetia Rai team is made up of either very good archers or very lucky archers, because they quickly build up a lead. I'm trying to help guide arrows when I can, but I'm not given much opportunity. If a pitiful shot is aimed ten feet above the target, a sudden curve in its trajectory would be suspicious. I check out Malfoy and find him giving me The Smirk as another Fetia Rai arrow hits a fruit. I overhear one of them tell another that they never thought they'd be this good at archery.  
  
I could just hit myself upside the head.  
  
He's been controlling their shots the entire time, and doubtless has been all throughout the practice time back at camp. I foolishly let my tribe try on their own, and now they all know how terrible they are with a bow and arrow. Malfoy's team has been surprisingly good since they picked up the bow, so they expect their shots to be good. As the tenth fruit is struck on their side, I know that just as I won the team immunity last time, I've lost it for us this time. And Malfoy, looking at me while smiling and stroking his chin in thought, knows it too.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Our four fruits aren't much compensation for losing the challenge. We eat them all for dinner, agreeing that it would be unfair to save them until after someone is voted out. Kiki and I sit at the corner of our dining area. I lean back and casually draw a question mark in the sand behind me, then nudge her. She sees the note, then brushes the sand flat and writes a single letter. I nod to acknowledge I've seen it, then she erases the conversation away.  
  
It's been six days since we've been to Tribal Council, and it feels like forever. Marcus is there waiting for us, and we put our torches in their places and sit on the stools in front of him. The usual question-and-answer session begins, and Marcus points questions to several people. Then he surprises me.  
  
"You guys know that starting tomorrow, your tribe will merge with the five remaining members of Fetia Rai. Hermione, what do you think of that? What do you make of the other tribe?"  
  
I feel like I pause for ten minutes, but in reality it's probably more like ten seconds. "Well, um, I don't really know them at all. They're all strangers. But I'm sure they're nice people. I hope we can all get along, and maybe we'll feel like family, just like we already do at Miti Matai."  
  
What a load. But he seems to accept it, and announces that it's time to vote. I'm pretty sure that Kiki, Pete, Ellen and I are all voting the same way. I don't feel terribly nervous, but there's always the lingering doubt that everyone's been lying to me, and that I'm going to hear my name read off all the slips of paper.  
  
Marcus brings the vote container over and begins to read. Geoff, Ellen, Geoff, Ellen, Geoff. Please, let Pete have voted with us. The final vote: Geoff. Four to two. Sorry, it's time for you to go.  
  
It's late when we get back to camp. I should be tired. But I can't sleep at all. 


	13. Day Nineteen: Morning

Day Nineteen - Morning  
  
  
There's a package in our mailbox quite early this morning. I know it's there quite early because I've been up since dawn. This is the third time I've checked for mail so far this morning. I'm so tense with anxiety and anticipation it almost feels like a perverse, twisted Christmas. Everybody knows the game will change today, but for me it's a change of a completely different kind.  
  
I return to camp with our package and set it down outside our shelter. Ellen and Pete are up already and starting to cook breakfast. A quick peek inside the shelter finds Kiki and Chet starting to rise. It's odd, being down to just five of us from the original eight. The same thought must be weighing on others' minds, and Pete puts voice to it.  
  
"So, a cozy little gang we've got here. But not cozy for long."  
  
Ellen purses her lips. "I don't want to lose any more of us. We should discuss what's going to happen after the merge." You go, girl! She's starting a conversation we need to have, but I didn't want to instigate.  
  
"Our team should definitely stick together," muses Kiki. "I'm sure they're all very nice over there, but I don't want to vote any of our team out."  
  
I catch Kiki's eye and wink. "Well, let's be sure to discuss any and all voting decisions beforehand, so we can come to a consensus. I'm sure we'll be able to come to an agreement about who to let go." Kiki nods and winks back. We'll talk later.  
  
So we're all on the same level regarding our votes. However, we have no idea what the merging procedure will be like. We open up our package and find colorful bundles of feathers, flowers and cloth. The instructions detail an island ritual where tribes put on their finest decorations when meeting rival tribes. We're to each choose a color and create a headdress, necklace, sarong or other impressive-looking display. Just my luck, one of the bundles is a combination of scarlet and gold. How can I not give a subtle shout-out to my fellow Gryffindors? Eerily enough, there's also a bundle of green and silver, which Pete takes. Good, fine, let him wear Malfoy's colors. I'm sure if their tribe is doing the same thing, Malfoy will be as loyal to his house's colors as I am.  
  
Kiki ends up with blue and white, Ellen with the unfortunate combination of orange and purple, and Chet with black and pink. Although he refers to pink as "red," which of course it is, in an alternate universe where accidentally being the last to choose your colors means that the remaining colors are the pinnacle of masculinity. And so of course, to torment him, none of us is willing to change colors with him.  
  
We get to work on our personal decorations. Kiki and I have both decided to wear our cloth as a sarong over our bathing suits. We both create anklets and bracelets out of our flowers and help each other weave flowers and feathers into our hair. Pete makes a strange sort of turban on his head with feathers sticking out of the front, which means we have a very hard time stopping the giggles. We finish up our decorations and start toward the designated meeting spot. Just short of the clearing, a production assistant holds us up. We can hear voices from the clearing, but there's just enough jungle in the way that we can't see what's happening. Our assistant gets the word, and allows us to enter the clearing. There are two circular enclosures next to each other. We are ushered into the nearer one. It feels somewhat like a hut, except that there's no roof. All I can see of the other team is the occasional bobbing feather sticking up. The enclosures are both open at the front, so we can see Marcus clearly, but we can't see the other tribe to find out who's wearing what colors.  
  
"Today is a very important day here on the island," Marcus begins his standard speech. "Two tribes will become one. You will combine together and live on one of your beaches. Now the decision needs to be made: on which beach will you live?  
  
"You've all chosen your colors, and you may have guessed that someone on the opposite team will have the same colors on as you." I smile to myself, glancing toward the Fetia Rai hut; Malfoy's pretty tall, and there's a green feather bobbing around. Marcus pulls out a bag and some colored stones. He shows us the stones, then drops them one by one into the bag. "These stones represent your colors. I will draw two stones. The people with those colors will both be ambassadors of their tribe, and the two pairs selected will visit the two camps. Each pairing will consist of a visitor to inspect the campsite and a resident to give a tour. Once the visit is complete, these ambassadors will reconvene here and decide which beach will be your new home."  
  
Marcus pauses dramatically. Then he reaches into the bag and pulls out the first stone. Blue on one side, white on the other. Kiki smiles at us, then steps forward out of the hut. The Fetia Rai team member steps up next to Marcus so we can see her. She's probably older than anyone on our team; a rough guess would be 50, but it's possible that the grimy conditions make her look older than she is. She has a very nice smile. Marcus tells them that they're going to the Fetia Rai camp. With a wave to us, Kiki follows the woman into the jungle on the left.  
  
"And now, the team that will visit Miti Matai." Marcus pulls the next stone out of the bag.  
  
Shock and surprise, it's scarlet and gold. I step forward and join Marcus out front, then turn toward the Fetia Rai hut. Their representative starts walking toward me.  
  
I've often wondered just how many emotions a person can feel at the same time.  
  
There's anger, of course. Why me, Fates? Confusion -- why would he not only not wear his own school colors, but wear the colors of the house that he slandered on a daily basis. Strangely, jealousy is in there as well. He's done a much better job with his decorations than any of the rest of us. Which leads us into good old fashioned lust, because with the fabric worn as a long, billowing cape and a lei of feathers and flowers over his bare chest, he looks something like a god. Or a king. Or at the very least, a high priest of some sort. Let's not forget irritation, since I now have to spend the rest of the day alone with him. Oh, also uncertainty, worry and a splash of fear, since I now have to spend the rest of the day alone with him.  
  
Throw them all in a glass and swallow them down. Bitter and violent. But they're chased with a clear shot of calm and acceptance, because now the next part of the game can finally begin. As Malfoy strides toward me, with a cocky and sure look on his face, I make eye contact and hold out my hand. Straight. Unshaking. Confident. And ready to meet him in the middle. 


	14. Day Nineteen: Evening

Day Nineteen - Evening  
  
  
Malfoy takes my hand and shakes it. Nice and firm. And warm. His silver eyes are looking right into mine, and I almost wish that I could take this moment and tuck it away for safekeeping. We're not fighting, we're not even speaking. In our colorful history we've barely ever touched, and never in a friendly manner. There are no snide remarks, no cruel insults. Just a handsome man giving me a genuine smile. Sure, it's put on for the cameras. But it certainly looks nice.  
  
"A pleasure to meet you." Wah! I was so entranced, he got in the first words. Shake it off, girl!  
  
I lick my lips slowly. "Oh, the pleasure's all mine." Bingo! A raised eyebrow, and I've caught up.  
  
Marcus instructs us to go to my camp, so I can give my pal Draco the grand tour. As we break off, I hear Marcus tell the other tribe members that they'll all be allowed to socialize over a tropical feast. Great. They all get to dine and dish, and I'm going to have to cook rice for Malfoy.  
  
He breaks the silence again as we trudge through the trees. "Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Hermione Granger."  
  
"That's a lovely name." I stumble over a root, and he grabs my arm before I fall. I look at him with a questioning look, and he answers with a glance toward the cameraman to our right. Charming. He's able to unnerve me and act natural for the cameras at the same time.  
  
"So, where are you from?" Two can play at this game.  
  
"London."  
  
"Oh, me too! What school did you attend?"  
  
He waves his hand casually. "You've never heard of it, it's a small private school." Damn.  
  
"So, why choose the scarlet and gold for your colors? I figured you more for a green and silver man."  
  
His mouth briefly twists into The Smirk, then settles back into a smile. "Nasty colors, those. Remind me of snakes. Bad associations." This from Draco 'You Can Take Away My Slytherin Pride When You Pry It From My Cold, Dead Fingers' Malfoy? Something's definitely not right here.  
  
Our conversation remains a stilted tangle of lies scattered amongst stretches of silence until we reach the Miti Matai camp. At least now I can stop the banalities for a while and give him a tour around our camp. I show him our shelter, which he seems to inspect carefully. Granted, despite whatever is between the two of us, we're also playing this game. Right now our primary responsibility is to decide where ten people should live. I take pleasure in telling him to grab one of our water jugs, and he follows me down to the waterfall and pool.  
  
"Wow." He seems genuinely impressed. "We only have a small stream over at our camp. This is much better." After filling the water jug, he sets it down then gives me a saucy wink.  
  
"Fancy a dip?"  
  
Without waiting for an answer, he takes off his necklace of flowers and his cape, kicks off his tennis shoes and leaps into the pool. He starts swimming toward the far side of the pool.  
  
"What the hell, why not?" I shed my sarong, anklets and bracelets and jump in.  
  
By the time I make it to the far side of the pool, Malfoy has already hoisted himself up onto the rocks. As I reach him, he offers me his hand. I look up into his eyes, but the shadows on this side of the pool make it hard to read his expression. I decide to take a chance, and grab his hand. He helps pull me out of the pool and onto the rock next to him.  
  
"So, this is a really lovely camp you have here. I think I really prefer it to ours." He's speaking to me, but is watching the cameraman out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Well, I'll be interested to hear what Kiki thinks of your camp."  
  
"Ah, the redhead. Reminds me a bit of someone I knew from school." He grins at me and arches an eyebrow. "I'll bet you two are quite chummy."  
  
"You've got to make friends in this game to survive. But not too good of friends."  
  
He goes back to watching the cameraman. "Very true. In fact, I'll bet you and I will get along just nicely, Celluloid Oblivate."  
  
For a moment I don't understand what he's said. Then I look over at the cameraman, who's now inspecting the side of his camera and thumping it with his hand. Malfoy has somehow injured the camera by casually throwing a spell into conversation. After a few more moments of futile camera-thumping, the cameraman heads quickly back through the jungle, drawing out his walkie-talkie as he jogs.  
  
"Smooth. I hope you don't do that every day."  
  
Malfoy turns to me. "This is about as far as we can get from the rest of the camera crews, so we'll have a moment. But time is still short." He grabs my hand, startling me. "I swear to you, I didn't know you were going to be here. I took a guess at your colors so I could get you alone. I don't know why you're here -- your reasons may be similar to mine, for all I know. But I need you to understand, I absolutely have to win this money."  
  
I pull my hand out of his. "Why, so Voldemort's minions can rise up again? Face it, Malfoy. Your side lost, my side won. Good will always win over evil. This game will be no exception. Not only do I plan to win, I plan to stomp you into the ground in the process."  
  
I can't read his face in the shadows. The sun has started to go down, and the waterfall is shrouded in the semi-dark of evening. After a pause that feels hours long, he sighs.  
  
"I should have guessed you'd feel that way. I've never given you any reason to feel otherwise. But you have it all wrong."  
  
"I've never been wrong about you, Malfoy." I'm ready to spout another tirade, but his hand is suddenly up against my lips. His shadowy head cocks toward the jungle. His warm hand slowly lowers from my lips, tracing a light path from my chin to the hollow at the base of my throat. Then he turns and jumps back into the pool. Just as he starts swimming back to the shore, a new cameraman emerges through the trees.  
  
I close my eyes for a moment and try to get the goosebumps to retreat. Of course, I'm just cold from the pool water and the shadows of the evening. Of course.  
  
* * * * *  
  
We return to camp and find instructions to return to the same beach that we were at this morning. Conversation is nonexistent during this trek through the woods, as I'm sure we both have a lot to think about. Malfoy is obviously playing me, trying to gain my sympathy. He's also apparently trying to seduce me, or at least get me into a state of lustful stupidity. As far as the first, I don't trust him any further than I can throw him. But as far as seduction goes, two can play at that game.  
  
Back at the clearing, there are two tents and a blazing fire. The huts from earlier are gone, as well as the rest of our teams. Kiki and her partner are already sitting in front of the fire, waiting for us to arrive. Kiki hops up as we approach and gives me a hug.  
  
"Hermione, I hope you had as much fun as I did! This is Carla." I shake hands with the older woman, and turn to Malfoy.  
  
"This is Draco. Draco, Kiki." He steps forward as if he were the most suave, debonair fellow in the world. He grasps Kiki's hand in both of his.  
  
"Kiki, it is truly a pleasure to meet you." He gives her the ultra-handsome grin, and that damned adorable Kiki responds with a glowing smile. And I'm instantly filled with jealousy. Damn it, he's supposed to be flirting with me! Not that he's going to get anywhere, but still!  
  
Their little lovefest is interrupted by Marcus, slinking out of the shadows pushing a cart covered with a cloth.  
  
"So you four have, among you, inspected both campsites. Your teammates have gone home for the night, but you'll be spending the night here." He uncovers the cart to reveal not only a fantastic spread of food, but also many bottles of beer. "I know that brainstorming is tough work, so we're providing you dinner and drinks, as well as breakfast tomorrow. Your job is to decide what beach your new merged tribe will live on, as well as a name for the tribe. Here are paints and a flag, so that you can mark your beach with your new tribe's name and color." He hands us the supplies, as well as new blue headbands.  
  
We sit around a small circular table and devour the feast. After a couple of bottles of beer apiece, the mood of the group is significantly lighter. We discuss the camps, and decide that although the Fetia Rai site has, to quote Kiki, "an awesomely gorgeous shelter," the pool and waterfall of Miti Matai's site are enough to tilt the vote our way. The new tribe will live at the old Miti Matai beach. Ideas for names are bandied about, including taking the first letters of everyone's name and rearranging them to form words.  
  
"I don't know," I ponder. "Between our five, all we can make is PHECK." Kiki starts giggling at the sound of the word, and soon the rest of us are laughing too. Malfoy thinks about it, then announces that their team doesn't even have a vowel to offer.  
  
Carla offers her wisdom. "There's always Miti Rai or Fetia Matai, we could just mix up the existing names." We veto that idea pretty quickly, then grab more cold beers.  
  
All the while, Malfoy seems to be flirting with Kiki. I don't want him to see that it bothers me. After all, why wouldn't it bother me? Kiki is my friend, and Malfoy is... well, being Malfoy is enough. Every now and then he tries to catch my eye, but I avoid his gaze. I don't want him to rub his flirtations in my face.  
  
He grabs my leg under the table, which startles me enough that I meet his eyes. By the firelight, I could almost swear that he looks apologetic, but there's no way that could be possible. Then he runs his hand up my leg, and raises an eyebrow in silent commentary of the clean-shaven feel. I raise my eyes to the sky in a look of innocence, and the seriousness of the moment is broken.  
  
We finally decide that we're too drunk to make any decisions, and agree to choose a tribe name and decorate the flag in the morning. Kiki and I sling our arms around each other to keep steady, and move slowly toward one of the tents. Squinting, we see that one tent has blue and white flaps, and the other has scarlet and gold.  
  
"Oh, don't tell me we have to share a tent with our new buddies." I get close to the red tent and manage to read a note on the side. The note has two names. One of them is mine. The other is not Kiki's. I close my eyes and put my head in my hands.  
  
A warm arm separates me from Kiki, then wraps around my shoulders. I keep my eyes on the sand at my feet as I'm guided into the scarlet and gold tent. Fortunately, there are two mats on the floor, although they are a little too close together for my taste. A couple of candles in the corner lend just enough light to see.  
  
Malfoy leaves me standing by the front of the tent, swaying slightly. Suddenly, I'm very tired. He pulls the blanket back on one of the mats, fluffs the pillow, then gently helps me lie down.  
  
"This pillow isn't as nice as mine. I brought a pillow, did I tell you that?"  
  
"Nope. Though I bet it's a very nice pillow, this one will have to do."  
  
I'm not so drunk that I'm going to let anything slip, but I'm far too drunk to be able to come up with veiled references or subtle meanings. Malfoy blows out the candles and settles in next to me, a mere few feet away. I turn to look at him, but I can barely make out anything in the dark tent.  
  
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I think for a moment. "After all, we just met."  
  
"Why not? You seem like a lovely girl."  
  
"I bet you say that to all the girls. I bet you're a real heartbreaker."  
  
There's a quiet rustling next to me, then a hand gently brushes my hair back from my forehead. I feel breathing right next to my ear, then a whisper so quiet no camera could ever pick it up.  
  
"Hermione, I'd never break your heart."  
  
I open my mouth to speak, but the warm hand is there again on my lips. "Sssshh," he breathes. "Go to sleep." After a few minutes, drunk and tired win out over confused and I drift off. 


	15. Day Twenty

Day Twenty  
  
  
This is not the worst hangover I've ever had, but it's up there in the top ten.  
  
My memories of last night are sketchy, to say the least. I know we discussed team names and camp locations, and I know I drank more beer than I should have. And upon waking, I remember that I had to share a tent with Malfoy. It wasn't too bad a reminder, though; I woke up to find his sleeping form facing away from me, so I had a chance to check out his smooth, tanned back. Very nice. I know we talked about some things last night, but I can't really remember what.  
  
I sneak a hand out from under my blanket and tap him gently on the shoulder. With a sigh, he rolls over and opens his eyes to look at me.  
  
"Hermione, what would you say if I told you you talk in your sleep?" He gives me a broad grin.  
  
"I'd tell you you were full of it, Draco." It feels strange using his first name, after all these years. I bet he feels just as weird. But in this situation, it wouldn't do to start calling each other 'Malfoy' and 'Granger,' much less any of our other more colorful terms for each other.  
  
"Even if I told you that you called out my name all night long?" He gives me a smile and a wink, then stands and stretches his arms high above his head.  
  
"Nice try." I scratch my head. I slept in my braids last night, and they haven't held up too well. I get to my feet and start unraveling my hair. "I'd be more willing to believe I cried out 'Shampoo!' all night long."  
  
"Once we merge, you can use some of ours. I know it takes effort to stay beautiful." Before I can react to his remark, he ducks out of the tent. I take a deep breath and head out as well. The sunlight seems much brighter than usual, but I'm sure that's because of the hangover. At least it's relatively quiet. Malfoy is already halfway down the beach, running toward the surf. Looking around the area, I see that all of our dishes and empty bottles from dinner have been cleared away, and the table is set with plates of fruit and breakfast pastries. I settle into one of the chairs next to the table and observe the Malfoy Morning Ritual while munching on a wedge of melon. As I watch, he splashes out into the water until about chest-deep, then turns and swims a few laps back and forth, parallel to the beach.  
  
I'm startled by a noise next to me, and turn my head to find Kiki settling in at the table across from me. She looks a bit green around the gills, leaving me to wonder just how hung over I look. However, she immediately grabs a piece of pastry and digs in.  
  
"Ugh. Don't let me drink like that again." She shields her eyes from the sun to look out at Malfoy. "Looks like your friend is quite the peppy one. Even after all the drinking last night, he's got a bit of stamina." She gives me a lopsided grin.  
  
"He's not exactly my friend, dear. We were merely thrust together by the Fates." I roll my eyes at her.  
  
"Hmm, well, the Fates have a way of knowing what they're doing, pet." I open my mouth to respond, but she quickly puts up a hand to stop me. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," she smiles. "Besides, even if you don't consider him a friend, I think he's taken a fancy to you. Last night he looked at you a few times like he wanted to jump you right then and there."  
  
"I don't think so, Kiki." I shake my head gently, minding my headache.  
  
"Disagreement, ladies? Anything I can help solve?" A shadow falls over the table, and we look to find a dripping wet Malfoy standing over us. Why, oh why couldn't he be ugly? Bare chest, bare legs, baggy shorts, gleaming blond hair, and it's all glistening with water. Due to the combination of hangover, hot sun and Malfoy, I decide that I'm officially spending the morning in hell. Malfoy plops down into a chair, smiling widely. He grabs some grapes from the plate of fruit, tosses one up in the air and catches it in his mouth. Then he gives me a broad wink. A glance at Kiki shows that she is also smiling at me. I almost feel like I'm being double-teamed here. I groan, frown and cover my eyes with my hand.  
  
I hear Kiki shift in her seat. "Hey, Carla. Good morning!" Then the creak of the fourth chair as Carla sits down.  
  
"I'm sure you kids can handle all that alcohol, but this old lady is definitely feeling it." I uncover my eyes and turn to smile at her. She looks at the food, selects some orange slices, then takes on the motherly role of the group. "All right, time is short. We need to come up with a group name. Let's start brainstorming."  
  
"Team Starvation."  
  
"Ten Little Indians."  
  
"Nine Losers and a Millionaire."  
  
"The Beach Bunch."  
  
"Does anyone know any words in Tahitian, besides Miti Matai and Fetia Rai?" We all shake our heads at Carla. "How about anything tropical? Hawaiian? Anything?" Again, a round of head shakes. "Let's see... OK, how about the initials from the old teams? Two words that start with F.M. or M.F.?"  
  
We think for a moment, then Malfoy quips, "Sorry, I've got one thing that's M.F. stuck in my head. But I don't think the rest of the team would find it appropriate." I can't help but giggle.  
  
"What about anagrams?" Kiki taps her chin in thought. "Rearrange the letters of our teams. Or of the name of the game." We each grab a sheet of paper and a pencil and try to assemble new words. Kiki and Carla go to work on the letters in our former team names. Malfoy and I are both trying to rearrange the letters in 'Sole Survivor,' which is a challenge because the letters V and U are used too much. Malfoy moves his paper toward me, and I see that he's managed to mix French and lechery to produce 'vous - i - r - lovers.' Charming. I scribble on my paper, then show him a much more simple anagram: 'lose survivor.' He lets out a hiccup of a laugh, then tells the group, "I don't think we're going to come up with anything this way."  
  
Carla thinks for a moment then says, "amicizia. Vincitori."  
  
We all stare at her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she just cast a spell of some kind, but like no spell I've ever heard. She blushes and shakes her head. "It's Italian. Amicizia means 'friendship,' and vincitori means 'winners.' But that's taxing the limits of my knowledge."  
  
After a round of discussion, we decide that we like the sound of Vincitori, signifying that we're all already winners for making it to the merge. I'm sure we could come up with a better name given more time and a dictionary, but the morning is quickly getting away from us. We turn to the flag and make quick work of it. The production guys must have passed along that we were nearly done, because just as we're putting the finishing touches on the flag, Marcus wanders into the clearing.  
  
"So, you now have a new team name and flag. It's time to get your team together. Which beach will be your new home base?"  
  
Kiki steps forward. "We've decided to live at the old Miti Matai beach."  
  
"All right then, here's what's going to happen. You will all go to the old Fetia Rai beach to get the remaining three people there. Once there, you will have ten minutes to gather everything you can and load it into their fishing boat. Then you will proceed around the island to rejoin the rest of your tribe. Carla, Draco, you two know the way. It's time to go."  
  
We head into the jungle, with Malfoy and Carla taking the lead. Kiki and I drop back a bit to have a quiet conversation.  
  
"Carla told me about the people left in their tribe. I told her a little bit about the rest of us, but not too much. I don't think she's terribly happy with a couple of them, though she seemed to like your friend Draco." I shoot her a glare. "I'm just saying, I don't think their people are as friendly with each other as we are. If we stick together as the old Miti Matai tribe, I think we have a fair chance of getting the upper hand."  
  
Soon we emerge from the trees, and I get my first and last chance to see the Fetia Rai camp. Kiki was right, their shelter is fantastic. There's a cliff along one side of their beach with an indentation in it, and they've extended that to create a kind of combination hut and cave. There's not much time to see the rest of the camp, however. We tell the remaining three about our ten minute time limit, then hurry to gather as many supplies as we can. We manage to get all of the cookware and rice, as well as everyone's personal items. We leave behind the shower they'd won as a reward -- besides our having a natural shower at the waterfall, it's an enormous structure of metal and wood that we could never hope to load onto the tiny boat. We do grab the soaps and shampoo that came along with that reward, as well as their fishing supplies. After ten minutes, the camp is a hollow shell of its former self. The boat is completely full, so we tie the fishing net over the top and push it out. Only two people need to swim while pushing the boat, so we take turns letting two push while five leisurely paddle alongside.  
  
Kiki and I take advantage of the downtime to get to know the other three members of Fetia Rai. Along with Malfoy and Carla, there's a woman named Sheryl and two men, Franklin and Toby. The names are vaguely familiar because we've heard them called out during the various challenges. I remember Franklin, a genial middle-aged guy, from our pairing during a puzzle challenge. Sheryl turns out to be older than me and Malfoy by a few years, but she's so short she looks younger. Toby is another twentysomething, but very shy and quiet. He's a little overweight and wears glasses. From the few words I'm able to coax out of him, he seems like a very nice fellow. After a couple of rotations, it's my turn to help guide the boat. We make it around the tip of the island and see a stretch of beach far ahead with a tiny green flag. Seeing our destination helps motivate everyone to swim a little faster, and by the time we're able to touch bottom, Chet, Ellen and Pete have come out to meet us and help bring in the boat.  
  
Introductions are made as we wade up to the beach. We help unpack all of the belongings from the boat and stow things away at camp. Pete and Toby take down the old Miti Matai flag and replace it with the new blue Vincitori flag. Ellen takes Carla and Sheryl under her wing, showing them where all of our cooking supplies are kept and starting to prepare dinner. Chet steps in to help Ellen, and Kiki and I guide our new campmates down to the pool and waterfall. Everyone is impressed, and the former members of Fetia Rai all agree that we made the right decision.  
  
Dinner is a loud and friendly affair, with everyone getting to know everyone else. Malfoy is asked about his occupation, and he smoothly declares that he's a "freelance artist." A nice choice -- nothing specifically Muggle about it, and just vague enough to avoid details. I wonder if Malfoy made it up completely, or if he actually has some artistic talent. I never thought about Slytherins having talent for anything other than evil or deception.  
  
We stay around the fire until well after dark. Most of us have had a taxing day of swimming around half the island, but we manage to push fatigue away to find out more about our new tribemates. The game is completely different now, supposedly an every-man-for-himself individual challenge. But when tomorrow's first Vincitori vote comes, I won't be surprised at all if we end up with a 5-5 tie. I've spent the last twenty days with these people. Even though our new tribe members seem like nice people, for some reason I feel an allegiance to my former tribe. And if we manage to win tomorrow's vote, we're all guaranteed a spot in the top five.  
  
Finally, we decide that it's time to go to bed. Our shelter was built for eight, but we'd become accustomed to having only five sleeping in it. Plus, I'm stone cold sober and Malfoy is laying a scant three feet away from me. Suddenly it seems very crowded. 


	16. Day Twenty One

Day Twenty-One  
  
It's another fairly early rise for most of us. The occupancy of our shelter has doubled, which means much less personal space and a lot of new sound and movement. It's strange how accustomed I've become to my teammates -- I found it hard to sleep last night because of the different breathing patterns in the tent.  
  
A lot of people were tossing and turning last night, but nobody seems to want to mention it this morning. Sure, we slept ten to a tent last night, but it was the only night where there will be ten of us. Today we challenge for individual immunity, and tonight someone else will be going home. The game is shifting into an entirely different gear.  
  
The newcomers are eager to check out the waterfall and pool, and we former Miti Matai members are even more eager to try out the soap and shampoo that was brought over from the other camp. We all change into swimsuits, grab our towels and make our way into the jungle. There is light conversation, but there are also a lot of veiled glances and whispering between people. After tonight we can play "getting to know you" some more, but today we all have to decide who to vote for in order to make our former tribe dominant.  
  
Kiki, Ellen and I head straight for the waterfall with the shampoo. As I wade over to the pouring water, I untie and untangle my braids. We soak our heads, then have a wonderful time scratching and soaping our heads.  
  
"I know it's only been three weeks, but it feels like my hair has grown a foot," Kiki complains. Her bright red hair is noticeably longer, probably because it was so short to begin with. Chet and Pete have also had noticeable hair growth, and both are sporting stubbly beards. I don't notice much difference in the length of my hair, because it was already fairly long to begin with. But it feels absolutely fantastic to scrub away all the dirt and salt that has accumulated in my hair. As we wash our hair we can freely talk about the other team, since the noise of the waterfall covers our voices. We discuss the members of the other team, and decide that Franklin and Toby are our best bets; deplete the number of men, and likewise deplete the people who aren't that fun to be around. I'm glad in a way that Malfoy isn't brought up as a choice. Much as I don't want him to win, I also want to find out what he's doing here. Keeping him around another three days gives me more time to find out his motives.  
  
"I don't know how I'm going to untangle this mess." I manage to rinse most of the shampoo out, but my hair is now a clean, shiny mass of knots. I step out from under the waterfall and start running my fingers through my hair repeatedly, trying to turn my hands into rough combs.  
  
"Here, maybe this will help." I look up to find Malfoy right in front of me, holding up a small comb.  
  
"I don't want to know where you got that," I glare at him. How dare he transfigure a comb and risk both our necks?  
  
"Relax, it's clean," he smirks. "It's a part of my luxury item. I brought a grooming kit." Immediately, I feel bad for assuming the worst about Malfoy. I open my mouth to apologize, until I remember that it is indeed Malfoy in front of me. The last thing I'm going to do is apologize to him for expecting the dangerous behavior I've grown to expect from him. I grab the comb from his hand and start gently coaxing the tangles out of my hair.  
  
"So, this explains the clean-shaven face. What else is in there?" I eyeball the small leather bag in Malfoy's hand.  
  
"Besides the comb and my razor, there's a tweezer and a pair of scissors." He pulls out the various implements and shows them to me. I'm amazed that his razor is a straight razor. The last person I knew with one of those was my Grandfather.  
  
"I wouldn't have expected you to have a Mug..." I catch myself, "um, non-traditional razor like that. I hardly ever see people using them." Malfoy folds it up and tucks it back in the leather bag.  
  
"Well, I've always been one to appreciate man's finer inventions. It's not like there's magic involved, just a lot of skill." He drops a wink. "Though it's nothing compared to a pillow."  
  
"How did you manage to convince the producers to let you bring such a handy kit?"  
  
"Let's just say I can be very persuasive when I need to. Just let me know when you're done with the comb." With that, he walks quickly away to go talk to Franklin, leaving me even more confused. Just when I think Malfoy's being as strange as possible, he ups the ante again. What on earth would Malfoy be doing with a Muggle razor? From what I know of him, he finds all things Muggle to be far below him. But then again, here he is playing a Muggle game, surrounded by Muggles.  
  
I decide to give up trying to figure Malfoy out for now and just reconvene with my tribe. On the way over to talk to Kiki, Pete steps up and catches my arm.  
  
"So, how green is the grass on the other side?"  
  
"What?"  
  
He gives me a pained smile. "Looks like you're getting quite chummy with the other team. I wonder if we can still count on you, or if you're going to move over to the other side with your little blond boyfriend."  
  
"Pete, what the hell is your problem?" I pull my arm out of his grasp. "I am loyal to this team. And the blond is not my boyfriend. If anything, you should be encouraging me to find out whatever I can about the other team."  
  
His smile turns into a sneer. "I don't back losers. Play the game my way, or the other team might overhear all the terrible things you're saying about them. Heck, your own team might be shocked to hear the names you've called them."  
  
I start to tell him that I've never said anything cruel about anyone in the game, but then I catch the gleam in his eye. He knows the truth. But he's willing to spread lies around the camp if it looks like I'm too friendly with the other team. I can't let him see any weakness.  
  
I look him straight in the eye. "Get this through your head. I'm a member of Miti Matai. I gave my word to that team. And I don't go back on my word." I shoulder past him and try to find Kiki, but the production team is herding everyone toward the site for today's immunity challenge. There's nothing I can do but follow.  
  
Marcus gives us his best plastic grin when we arrive at the challenge. "I hope you've all started getting used to your new tribe. As you all know, since you're now on the same team, the challenges will be for individual immunity. The person who wins today's challenge cannot be voted out tonight." He takes the immunity idol back from us, and shows us a large, hideous golden ring. "This is the immunity necklace, and will be worn to tribal council by the winner. This is what you're trying to win today, folks." He puts the necklace on a stump and turns to survey the ocean.  
  
"Look out there." He motions toward the water. "You can see there's a blue flag out there. That blue flag is on a platform. Also on that platform are ten smaller blue flags." He turns and points toward the jungle. "Here's a trail through the trees, clearly marked. The trail goes through the jungle and comes back out near the same place." Finally he indicates a platform with a ladder on the side, about ten feet high. "This will be the finish line for today's challenge. When I give you the go, you will all swim out to the platform and retrieve a flag. Then you will swim back here and race through the jungle path. When you come back out, you'll climb up the platform and put your flag at the top. The first person to plant their flag at the top of the platform wins immunity. Any questions?"  
  
We all shake our heads. Marcus beckons us forward, and we line up behind a rope in the sand. I don't know why, but I'm compelled to catch Malfoy's eye. He's already looking at me. He raises an eyebrow in question, and I shake my head to let him know that he's not on the chopping block tonight. He responds by glancing quickly at Chet. I'm not sure I wanted to know who they were planning on voting for, but I'm certainly glad it's not me. We settle in at the start line, and I feel comforted knowing that I don't have to struggle to win immunity today. I don't know why I trust Malfoy to let me know the truth, but I suspect he also wants me to stick around, in order to find out my own motives for playing the game.  
  
Marcus shouts at us to start, and we race into the surf. I'm not the best swimmer in the world, but I can keep up pretty well with the rest of the group. I don't want to overtax myself, but I also don't want to appear as if I don't care to win. I make it to the platform in fourth place, grab my flag and start swimming back awkwardly with the flag in my hand. I fall behind Sheryl, who has her flag gripped tightly in her teeth as she swims. Emerging from the waves, I take off behind her into the jungle. The path is clearly marked with flags, but it's also crisscrossed with fallen logs and hanging vines. I catch up with Sheryl when she trips over an exposed root, but there's no way for us to catch up to the leaders. As we emerge from the trees again, Pete is already climbing to the top of the platform with his flag in hand. He jams the flag into its holder and howls at the sky, holding his arms above his head in victory.  
  
I cheer for him with the rest of the players, although I'm not particularly supportive of his win.  
  
There's just enough time after the challenge for a quick dinner of rice before we have to go to tribal council. As we gather up our torches and pack our bags, we manage to communicate through quick whispers and glances that our target tonight is Franklin. I feel a little ill inside knowing that for our five votes against Franklin, there will be an equivalent five votes against Chet. I briefly consider telling him that he's the other team's target, but I quickly decide that would be a mistake. He'd want to know how I knew in advance, and he'd probably make a scene.  
  
At least tonight's vote won't surprise me at all. That's a good thing, I suppose.  
  
We file into the tribal council area and find ten seats waiting for us. We settle in, and Marcus rattles off his recap of the last few days' events. His questions are all about how we're dealing with the merge. It's strange, I've quickly acclimatized to having these strange people in our camp, but it seems surreal to have new faces here at the tribal council. Malfoy gets hit with one of Marcus' probing questions.  
  
"Draco, do you think there are still old tribal lines, or are you all one big team now? And do you think the votes will reflect that?"  
  
"Well, I know that I'm already getting to know the other tribe, and they're all a bunch of great people. It will be a shame if any of them leaves tonight. As for tonight's vote, all I know is who I'm voting for. We'll have to wait and see how the chips fall." Marcus smiles and nods, because of course he's watched the footage and knows that we are a tribe divided, right down the middle.  
  
"Just a reminder, those of you who remain after tonight's vote will all remain here on the island until the end of the game. The remaining nine of you will make up a jury of seven and the final two. Now, it's time to vote." One by one we file up. After writing down Franklin's name, I tell the camera the only thing I can think to say, "I'm sure you're a nice guy. I hope you've enjoyed the game."  
  
Marcus walks up to get the container of votes. He brings it back down after a few moments and reads out the very unsurprising names. They alternate, one by one, until there are five for Chet and five for Franklin. Now is the moment of pressure; none of us knows the procedure for breaking a tie. In past seasons, it's been based on number of previous votes received and trivia questions about the game, but it may be different this time.  
  
"Interesting," Marcus begins. "In the case of a tie, the first thing we'll do is have another vote. Franklin and Chet, each of you will be given a chance to let the tribe know why they should change their vote." We suspected this part, at least. Franklin and Chet each take a turn to let the group know that they're hard workers, and friendly, and they like all of us, and they don't believe it's their time to leave the game yet. I understand the reason for the arguments, but at this important turning point in the game, I don't think anyone is going to change their mind.  
  
Once again, we all trudge up to vote, and Marcus returns to count them. Five for Chet, five for Franklin.  
  
"Now we move on to the tiebreaker." Several of us lean forward. "You may have seen other tiebreakers in previous seasons of the show, but there's something entirely new this year." He walks over to a pillar, on top of which is a small cloth bag. "Inside this bag are two stones. One of them has a red stripe painted around it. You will both draw a stone from the bag. The player who draws the stone with the red stripe will be eliminated from the game."  
  
Diabolical, a simple game of chance. They may as well just toss a coin. Franklin steps up and pulls out a stone, clenching it tightly in his hand. Chet reaches in and pulls out the other stone. At Marcus' prompt, they open their hands. One stone, white. One stone, white with a red stripe.  
  
The game is now out of balance. If old alliances hold together, one team can make it all the way to the finals.  
  
Marcus slowly snuffs out the offered torch. "I'm sorry Franklin, but the tribe has spoken." 


	17. Day Twenty Two

Day Twenty-Two  
  
  
Tension in the camp is understandably high this morning. Last night's vote was along the old tribal lines; obviously old alliances are strong on both sides, no matter how much the show would like us to now be one big happy family. And my tribe now has the advantage. We have the majority vote. We can pick the former Fetia Rai members off one by one, and they know it. It will be interesting to see what kind of deals they may try to make.  
  
Sheryl offers to go get water with Kiki and I, and the attempts begin.  
  
"So," she starts, "we're down to four guys and five girls. That gives us the advantage." An unsurprising angle, to try and pit the men against the women. "The men will probably do better at the physical challenges, so we women should all get together."  
  
"Interesting." Kiki catches my eye. "Of course, you could also say the advantage is with our old tribe."  
  
"Yes, but..." Sheryl glances around, then whispers, "I'd much rather see someone like Carla in the final five than someone like that Pete. I'm sorry if you two like him, but I find that guy incredibly distasteful."  
  
We agree about our mutual Pete-loathing. I tell Sheryl that we'll consider it, and we definitely need to talk to Ellen and see how she feels. Sheryl agrees to talk to Carla. Kiki and I will definitely talk later about how to work this to our advantage. We re-emerge from the jungle to find the others waiting for us.  
  
"We got mail this morning," grins Ellen. She reads the cheesy rhyme off a scroll of parchment. This is to be our first individual reward challenge, and a change from our regular schedule of no challenge the day after Tribal Council. From the rhyme, some kind of underwater activity will be involved.  
  
We all begin the short trek to the challenge site. Malfoy falls in step with me briefly, but remains quiet. I glance up at him, and he gives me a genuine smile instead of the smirk I've grown to know so well. Then he speeds up and joins up with his former teammate, Toby. I just don't understand what goes on inside that devious mind.  
  
We emerge onto the challenge beach to find Marcus waiting, looking tidy in his usual faux-adventurer outfit. After three weeks of scant food and no creature comforts, we're a fairly ragtag bunch in comparison. We gather around as he explains the day's game. "Here you see," he points to a pile of swim gear on a blue mat, "snorkels and masks for everyone. You're going to swim out to the platform, which is the starting line." He indicates the floating dock out in the lagoon that we've used before. "On my mark, you will dive down and find a brightly colored rock. There are nine of them, one for everybody. Your goal is to get that rock to the shore. First person to put their rock on this blue mat wins a reward. Do you want to know what you're playing for?" Of course, everybody nods. Marcus steps around behind us to a covered table, and returns with a pizza box. He opens it up, and inside is a large pepperoni pizza. I'm sure I'm not the only one whose mouth and stomach both made a noise upon seeing it.  
  
"The winner will get this entire pizza. Whether they want to keep it all to themselves or share it with the rest of the tribe is solely up to them. It's fresh and warm, and smells very good." He walks down the line of players, just out of reach. We can all smell it, and it smells fantastic.  
  
We swim leisurely out to the platform, mostly saving our strength for the challenge. I have my swim mask around my neck, several others have them up on their foreheads. We reach the platform and climb out to find Marcus behind us in a small boat. After lining up on the edge, we're given the signal to start and dive in.  
  
The rocks are painted bright blue to stand out against the sandy bottom. I quickly shoot downward and claim one as mine. It's simple enough to spell the rock so that it's significantly lighter, but both Malfoy and I need to surface for air regularly to avoid any suspicion. There are underwater cameras watching us, so bubblehead charms are out. Likewise, there is no gillyweed to be found on the island. A lightening charm helps, but a good deal of this challenge will have to be done the old-fashioned Muggle way. I try to make my rock appear heavy, and move with it as far as possible, then throw it toward the shore before I head upward for a breath. After a few more rounds of dive, grab, run, throw and surface, I check the status of the competition. Most everyone is behind me, and Malfoy is about equal. I continue to move my rock forward, but even with its reduced weight, it's a tiring process to keep diving and throwing a rock underwater. I finally make it up to where I can stand on the ocean floor and keep my head above water. I clutch my rock against my stomach and slog through the waves. As I emerge from the water, I steel my muscles and mutter a spell to make the rock its original weight. Hopefully my staggering under its weight isn't noticeable, as it happened at the same time as a wave crashed into the backs of my legs and would have made me stagger anyway. Malfoy is right behind me, but I manage to get up to the blue mat and drop my rock first. It makes a satisfyingly heavy thud when it hits the ground.  
  
The rest of the players are trudging out of the water, leaving their rocks behind. Even without magic, Pete had been fairly close behind me and Malfoy. Marcus ceremonially hands me the pizza box, and I open it up. I know there's no way I could eat it all myself; my stomach has shrunk significantly. A quick count of the box shows ten pieces of pizza. I take two out, then tell everyone that they can all have one piece. Hopefully it's a gesture of goodwill that will stick with the rest of them.  
  
It's quite possibly the best pizza I've ever tasted.  
  
After eating we gather up our snorkels and masks, which we're allowed to take back to camp, and return through the underbrush. We pass a lazy afternoon back at the camp, with just quick forays for more firewood. A couple of players take their new swim gear and try to catch fish by dragging the net around underwater. I perch on a rock and settle in to watch them. The patterns of the sunlight on the water must have lulled me into a daze, because I never heard someone come up and sit next to me.  
  
"Hey," Malfoy whispers. "What'cha doing over here all by yourself?" I blink a few times then look over at him, but he's gazing far out to sea.  
  
"Just thinking about things."  
  
"Nice job on the challenge."  
  
"Thanks." If he's going to be nice, I'm going to be even nicer.  
  
"Our team is outnumbered now. You guys will doubtless vote us off first." There's a hint of sadness in his voice. I'm sure he's terribly upset that he won't be winning the million now.  
  
"Unless you win all the immunity challenges, that is."  
  
"Maybe I'll just have to do that." He grins, eyes still on the slowly rolling waves. "It's just a shame I wasn't put on your team to begin with." He reaches down and takes hold of my hand. "Do you ever think that you were put on the wrong team to begin with? That you were meant to be on the other side?"  
  
"When something happens by chance, like team selection, it's probably for a reason."  
  
He sighs, eyes still on the water, and plays around with twining my fingers in his. "You know, even when it appears that you've chosen your own team, maybe there's someone else making that decision for you. Or maybe when you select a team, you'd really love to be on the other team, but you know there are important reasons for you to join the team." His fingers tighten in mine, and he finally turns his head to look at me.  
  
After a deep breath, he continues. "Don't always assume that someone chooses a team because they really want to be on that team. Even in other venues, like a war, for example." His silver eyes are almost mesmerising, and his hand is warm around mine. "There have been people all throughout history who choose to be a part of the side they don't support. But they know it's more effective for them to subvert and destroy from the inside than to fight from the outside. Everybody has their reasons for doing things, and they alone are the only person who understands those reasons." He holds my eyes and hand a bit longer, then releases both. He gets up and starts heading back to the camp.  
  
I watch his back as he walks slowly away. He pauses and turns back briefly. "Remember, there will always be a winning team in everything. But not all the members of that team at the time of victory were there at the time of the team's inception." With that, he turns back and goes to join in on starting dinner.  
  
I didn't get a chance to ask Malfoy about his cryptic remarks the rest of the night. But as I lay in the shelter, almost drifing off, a thought came back into my head that I had pushed aside for weeks. I was in intelligence during the war against Voldemort, and yet I'd never heard word one about Draco Malfoy. Where had he been, and what had he been doing? 


	18. Day Twenty Three

Day Twenty-Three  
Everyone is assuming today is a day off from competition, since the reward challenge was yesterday and Tribal Council isn't until tomorrow. But in the late afternoon, the producers tell us that we have to check our mailbox. Sure enough, the immunity challenge is tonight, after dark. This will be the first time we've challenged at night.  
  
Malfoy has been keeping his distance all day, presumably to give me time to think about his comments from yesterday. Although I will occasionally look around and find him watching me, before he quickly turns away. In the lull between dinner and the challenge, I wander over to my usual perch on the rocks to watch the ocean and think about Malfoy.  
  
He seemed to imply that he was only on the Dark side as a spy and a traitor. And that he had somehow chosen to be on that side in order to subvert it from the inside. But if that were the case, does that mean an 11-year-old Malfoy chose to be in Slytherin on purpose, knowing somehow he would be able to bring about the demise of Voldemort? How could that be, since when we were first starting at Hogwarts, nobody knew that Voldemort was still a going concern?  
  
Making the crazy assumption that Malfoy is telling the truth, I have to also assume that he knew Voldemort was still alive. Since his father was practically Voldy's right-hand man, it makes sense that the Malfoy household would have information that nobody else would have. But what on earth would make an 11-year-old boy decide to take down his father's organization from the inside? I have no idea what his childhood was like, but if Malfoy truly put in over ten long years working to overthrow his father's cronies, it must not have been pleasant.  
  
So then, if he was working undercover for our side, there's still the issue that I never heard a single mention of Malfoy's name during the war. And working in intelligence, I was probably more knowledgeable about the participants in the war than most. Almost all of our agents used code names in their communications, but most of their real-life identities were made common knowledge after Voldemort's death.  
  
I'm sitting on my rock, staring out to sea and trying to remember the names of agents whose identities were never revealed... Jester, SilverHawk, Isis... when a shadow falls across my face. I look up to find Pete smirking at me. It's strange how he seems to have taken over the dirty smirk after Malfoy discarded it. It certainly doesn't look as good on Pete's face -- not sexy, not cocky, merely menacing.  
  
"Thinking about your boyfriend, Hermione?" Pete sits next to me, definitely too close for my tastes.  
  
I glance around for a cameraman. One is coming across the beach toward us, but isn't in range yet. Apparently I'd been so boring here by myself that they abandoned filming me. "Pete, I don't want to get into this with you. Obviously you believe something is going on, and I'm getting tired of telling you the truth, that there is NOTHING going on."  
  
"Well, at least after tomorrow, there won't be anything going on." He glances over to make sure the cameraman can't see him yet, then grabs my upper arm and squeezes hard. I barely manage to contain my gasp of pain. "Your little buddy loses tonight, we're voting him out. Tell the other girls he's obviously a threat, because he's strong." My arm is released and suddenly Pete is smiling and friendly, because the camera is now turned on us. "So I'm glad you agree with the plan. Make sure to tell the others who we're voting for, OK?"  
  
I nod and walk away. Pete's threatening behavior has been increasing, but he's always exremely careful to keep it off-camera. I hurry back to camp to find Kiki and discuss the situation with her. Even with my wand, I don't feel entirely safe around Pete, since I'd be afraid to use it except in the most extreme situation, should my non-Muggle status be revealed. Back at camp I find out from Carla that Kiki and a couple of others have gone on a water run.  
  
As I near the water, I can hear voices and laughter. Entering the clearing, I see Chet and Sheryl filling one water jug, and off to the side, Kiki and Malfoy filling the second. Kiki is laughing, apparently at something Malfoy has said, and I feel a hot surge of jealousy. I clear my throat and they both look up at me.  
  
"Hey, speak of the devil," Kiki grins. "Draco was just telling me a little story."  
  
"Now, that was between us, Kiki!" Draco acts put out. He rolls his eyes as Kiki starts telling me the little story anyway.  
  
"Apparently, Hermione, you remind our Draco here of someone he went to school with." I raise one eyebrow at Malfoy. "They were in the same year, but traveled in different circles. She was the smartest girl in school, and Draco had a HUGE crush on her. And you remind him of her! Hermione, you're Draco's secret school crush!" Kiki starts shaking with giggles. I look at Malfoy, and he's staring at me with a quiet, steady calm.  
  
Ugh. I do NOT need this now. I smile sweetly at Draco. "Well then, Draco, maybe you could take your mooning somewhere else? I need to speak to Kiki for a minute. Perhaps you could just admire me from afar for a while." This causes Kiki to giggle even more. Draco looks at me without speaking for a moment, then turns and walks away. I instantly feel guilty for dismissing him so abruptly, but he doesn't know that if he's going to stay in the game, Kiki and I need to strategize.  
  
"Kiki, has Pete talked to you about the next vote?" Her giggles cease almost instantly.  
  
"Um. Well." She looks around to make sure nobody else can hear us. "Yes. He wants Draco to go next, under the pretense that Draco is too strong, and will win too many challenges. But... um..."  
  
"What? He told me about Draco too. But what else?"  
  
"It's just the look he gets when he talks about Draco. Like he wants to rip the guy's head off. But he told me he'd already discussed it with you, and you agreed about taking out Draco."  
  
"That's a lie. He only just spoke to me." I look around again, just to make sure Pete isn't nearby. "Has Pete seemed a little strange to you lately? No matter which old member of Fetia Rai is eliminated tonight, it will give Miti Matai a 5-to-3 advantage. We should probably drop Pete next. We'll still have the advantage, but I'm getting very uncomfortable with him around."  
  
"Yeah." Kiki grabs her water jug. "We should head back, it's almost time to go to the challenge. Let's see what happens tonight, who wins immunity. Frankly, I'd rather see Pete go before Draco any day, but we have to keep our tribe larger than Fetia Rai."  
  
We get back to camp in time to put on warmer clothes, then leave for the challenge site. The darkness and difficulty in navigating the jungle keeps conversation low. When we arrive at the challenge site, Pete shifts around until he's between me and Malfoy. Marcus appears and explains the rules of the game. There are nine different stations around the dark clearing, each with a trivia question about one of the nine remaining players. Each question has four boxes with possible answers painted on them. The box with the right answer contains a bracelet, the others nothing. We're only allowed to open one box. If we answer wrong, we have to move on to another station then come back later and try again. The first person to return to Marcus with nine bracelets will win immunity.  
  
This one will be very easy for myself and Malfoy. We can just spell the boxes to be transparent, revealing the hidden bracelet to our eyes. As we move to the start line, I can finally make eye contact with Malfoy. He raises his eyebrow in a questioning manner. I know what he's asking -- am I on the chopping block? I give him a tight nod. In the flickering firelight of the torches, it looks like surprise in his eyes, and I am again hit with a wave of guilt.  
  
We begin the game. I'm not too concerned with playing hard. Obviously since I let Malfoy know he's next, I must want him to win. I decide not to barrage my psyche with questions of motivation for now, and just concentrate on helping him if I can. He dashes into one of the stations, quickly gets the bracelet, and moves on. I enter the station he just vacated, and take my long, sweet time reading the question and all possible answers in order to keep that station unavailable for anyone else. Marcus is shouting out a running tally of the scores, and by the time he shouts out Malfoy's victory, I've only gathered four out of nine bracelets due to my slow performance.  
  
We gather around as Marcus latches the immunity necklace around Malfoy's neck, then tells us to meet him at Tribal Council tomorrow night. I try to make eye contact with Malfoy, but he turns away from me and heads back to camp. I stand for a moment until I realize that Pete is watching me watch Malfoy. I desperately want to let Malfoy know that the decision to vote him out wasn't mine, but I know that Pete would then make me the next target. Kiki comes up behind me and links her arm in mine, giving my hand a quick squeeze. Tomorrow we'll figure out our next move. 


	19. Day Twenty Four

[a/n: I have't forgotten you! I'm terribly busy rehearsing a new sketch comedy show. But this story will be completed, come heck or high water. I apologize for the brevity of this chapter, but it was techically filler so I could pass the day and get to some more exciting stuff. Kisses, all. I will update as soon as possible!]  
  
Day Twenty-Four  
.  
.  
.  
You'd think a day off would be relaxing. No challenges, just a trip to Tribal Council tonight. But my stomach feels like it's been tied in a series of knots. Fortunately most of the chores are done, so I can just lie in the sun and think about my situation.  
  
I can't talk to Malfoy. Pete is keeping a close eye on my movements, since he suspects there's something going on between me and Malfoy. Of course, there IS something, but a silent battle of wizarding wits is no kind of relationship that Pete would ever understand. Meanwhile, Malfoy is giving me something of a hurt puppy treatment. He's fully aware of our former tribe's alliance, but I know he doesn't understand why he was going to be the next to go.   
  
And of course, I don't understand why he doesn't understand. After all, we've been enemies since we first met, a dozen years ago. One would think my obvious move would be to get rid of Malfoy as soon as possible. And of course, I keep trying to convince myself that as soon as I find out his motivations, I'll put his name down on that little slip of paper. Because I certainly don't enjoy having him around.  
  
Well, except for the fact that he's a divine piece of eye-candy. And he's done nothing overtly devious or evil to me in the three-plus weeks we've been on Unknown Island. And when he's not being a smirking ass, he can actually be quite charming. And funny. And sexy.  
  
Obviously I need to get out of the sun.  
  
I get up and make my way back to the shelter, so I can lie with my thoughts in the shade. I drop my head so I can take sideways glances through a curtain of hair. Sure enough, Pete is watching me on the left, Malfoy on the right. I want to avoid talking to one of them, and he won't allow me to talk to the other.  
  
The day crawls along. Eventually, it's time to get rounded up for Tribal Council. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Malfoy put the immunity necklace around his tanned neck. As we trudge through the undergrowth, Kiki makes her way next to me. I make brief eye contact, then she flicks her eyes to Toby, one of the former Fetia Rai members, and the only male left on that team besides the immune Malfoy. She's just reconfirming the choice we'd decided on last night, since the men are stronger and stand a better chance of winning physical challenges.  
  
We enter the Tribal Council area, and it's the same schtick as every week. Marcus adds on the news that tonight's ejected player will be the first member of the jury, which will eventually grow to seven members. His script informs him to let us know how proud he is of us, that we've made it this far in the game. After a few softball questions, thankfully none of which are aimed at me, we take our turns voting.  
  
The ballots emerge in the typical mixed fashion. Out of nine of us, five are former Miti Matai, four are former Fetia Rai. In shows of tribal solidarity, there are five votes for Toby, and four for Pete. As Toby leaves the group to have his torch snuffed, I glance at Pete. He's clearly shocked that the other tribe voted for him, but instead of surprise, I see scowling anger fall over his features.  
  
On the way back to camp, I realize how tired this day has made me feel. And a big part of that was not being able to talk openly with my friends. God, I hope something happens in the next couple of days to break up this stalemate, because I don't know how much more of the constant watching I can handle.  
  
It's only as I drift off to sleep that I hazily realize I've thought of Malfoy as one of my friends. 


	20. Day Twenty Five

Day Twenty-Five  
  
This morning is already uncomfortably warm, and I'm sure it will only get hotter throughout the day. Once again, the morning also brings us notification of a challenge. After sitting around for most of yesterday in a conversational gulag, it's actually going to be a pleasure to get away from camp and interact with the other players, even if it involves getting sweaty.  
  
As I shake out the sand from my tennis shoes, Malfoy comes up to me. He takes a seat next to me and starts adjusting his own shoelaces, and quietly mutters, "what's going on?"  
  
I lower my head to take a closer look inside one of my shoes. "Pete's watching me."  
  
His eyes flick quickly my way, then over to where Pete is helping wash the breakfast dishes. I use my hair as a convenient curtain again, and can look at Pete without him noticing. Surprise of surprises, Pete is looking directly at us. Even though three feet of space separates me from Malfoy, Pete is glaring as if we were caught in a clinching embrace.  
  
Malfoy turns and looks at the sky behind my head, so his mouth can't be seen by Pete. "What's up with him?"  
  
"Long story. Tell you later." I see Pete finish up and start stalking toward us. I tie my shoes and stand up, walking directly away from Malfoy. Almost comically, Pete stops and stands motionless, his eyes flicking back and forth between us, as if he can't decide which of us he should approach. Fortunately, Chet passes by Pete and gives him a manly fake punch in the shoulder, encouraging him to get ready for the challenge.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
As usual, it's a sweaty walk through the jungle to the challenge site. We emerge onto one of the large beaches we've used before to find an obstacle course. Marcus greets us as usual, looking exceptionally tidy in clean khaki shorts and a white shirt.  
  
"Today's challenge is an obstacle course that will not only depend on your island survival abilities, but will also depend on another member of your team. There are four stations along the course. You and a randomly-chosen partner will take turns completing the stations. First, one of you will swim out to a platform and retrieve a flag. Bring it back here and put it in this flag holder. Once that flag is in place, the other partner will light a fire under these ropes." He holds out a flint and a magnifying glass. "You may only use these traditional fire-starting tools. Once the rope is burned through, another flag will be released. That flag goes into the holder, then the first partner will dig in this marked-off area in the sand until they find the third flag. Finally, the second partner will climb one of these twenty-foot vertical ropes to retrieve the flag at the top. The first pair with all four flags in their holder and all four hands ON the holder will win this reward challenge." He smiles widely at us. "Do you want to know what you're playing for?"  
  
Everyone murmurs their assent. Marcus points to a hut behind him. "Tomorrow night away from the team, here at our own little bed-and-breakfast. Or more accurately, a shower-and-dinner-and-bed-and-breakfast. The water is hot, the mattresses are soft, and it's all for you and your partner for the whole night." Most of the players are grinning by this point, because we'd all love a soft bed and two meals and a hot shower. I steal a glance at Pete and find him looking frustrated. I can well imagine his problem -- I bet he desperately wants to win the challenge, yet wants to stay at camp to make sure we're all under his iron rule.  
  
Marcus pairs us up. Thank goodness for random partner assignments, so I don't end up with Pete. He's paired with Sheryl. The other pairings are Ellen and Kiki, Malfoy and Carla, and I'm teamed up with Chet.  
  
I realize that I really want Pete to win this challenge. A night without him watching over me like a hawk would be worth ten times more than a shower at this point. Chet and I line up at our starting point, and we quickly decide that I should take the first and third stations so he can climb the rope at the end. As I'm shucking my shoes, I see that the other two teams with men have made the same decision; there's just something about rope climbing that always falls to the menfolk.  
  
Marcus tells us to go, and we're off. It's four women swimming like mad out to the floating platform for the first flag. Well, truth be told, I'm not really pushing myself. Ellen and Carla are right ahead of me, and Sheryl is out in front. She's the first to grab her flag and head back, with the two older women right behind her, and I'm right behind the two older women. I manage to lose a little more ground on the return trip. I plant our first flag, and Chet races off to start his fire. He's the last one to begin gathering kindling, and I see that Pete already has a great stack of wood and is managing to angle his magnifying glass with one hand while striking flint with the other. Malfoy and Kiki are the other two firestarters. I see Malfoy hold the magnifying glass up, then blow on his kindling. I'm sure I'm the only one who catches the subtle movements of his lips as he casts a fire spell, sparking his kindling just moments before Pete.  
  
Damn it all, Malfoy wants to win.  
  
I raise my hand up to my face as if to wipe my nose, and whisper a quick spell. Pete's fire starts flaring higher and higher, the flames licking eagerly at the rope suspended above. Despite Malfoy's subtle work on his own fire, mine is quicker. Pete's rope snaps and he's able to retrieve the second flag. Malfoy is only a minute behind with his own flag, and they send Carla and Sheryl to begin digging. Kiki is having trouble with her fire, but Chet's is burning merrily, and in another minute, I'm off to dig as well. The plot we've each been given is about ten feet by ten feet, and we only have our own hands to dig. As I halfheartedly cast around in the sand to find my flag, I whisper another spell toward Sheryl. She pauses for a moment, then turns and digs a few feet away from where she had been looking. She comes up with the flag and gives a shriek of happiness. I'm sure Malfoy is using similar spells on Carla, because she's found her flag as well. Going to the ropes, Pete and Malfoy are nearly equal, with Pete just slightly ahead. With a muttered "accio flag," I uncover our own flag and send Chet to the ropes, just far enough behind the other two that he won't win.  
  
Pete is climbing quickly, but Malfoy may be climbing slightly faster. I need to do something.  
  
"GO, DRACO!"  
  
It's enough. Malfoy hesitates for a moment, surprised to hear me shout his first name in such an obviously supportive manner. And Pete, upon hearing me cheer for his competitor, puts on a burst of speed most likely fueled by anger. He reaches the flag at the top and descends the rope so quickly he almost gets burns on his hands. Over to his flag holder, and he and Sheryl are declared the winners.  
  
We gather around to congratulate them, and Marcus approaches. "Way to go, Pete and Sheryl. Tomorrow night you'll have a relaxing time away from the game. We'll send for you. Everyone else, you'll have tomorrow off from any challenges, and I'll see you again for the immunity challenge the day after tomorrow. Great job, everybody. Now head back to camp."  
  
We return slowly, sapped from the heat of the day and the exertion of the challenge. We all take a dip in the cool waters under the waterfall, then have a plain dinner of rice and coconut meat. Chet jokes with Pete about how tonight's dinner will compare with tomorrow's reward dinner. Pete laughs along, but his features are very tight. He wanted to win, but it's going to kill him to spend a night away from the rest of us. I'm sure he thinks we'll all talk about him behind his back, and he's right.  
  
Once the sun goes down the beach grows a bit cooler, and we're all in bed relatively early. I feel practically giddy with the thought of a night without Pete around. Maybe I can find out more about Malfoy's plans. Certainly, I can talk to the rest of the old Miti Matai team to find out what they all think of the Pete situation. So much to do, so little time. I never would have guessed that the game would be this complicated.  
  
Hugging my pillow tight, with a slight smile on my face, I drift off to sleep. 


	21. Day Twenty Six

Day Twenty-Six  
  
Despite getting to bed relatively early last night, most of the tribe is late to rise this morning. We're all pretty tired at this point, almost four weeks into this battle of hunger and exertion. I do feel bad for the rest of the players, who were unable to boost their systems before the game started with magical spells. However, I don't feel bad enough to let any of them win the game.  
  
It's another hot morning. Fortunately we don't have any challenges today, and the few morning chores go by fairly quickly. I'm on firewood duty this morning, so I take that opportunity for a little alone time. My path takes me along the beach, collecting driftwood. Alone with my thoughts and my driftwood, I still don't know what to make of Malfoy. He hasn't done anything overtly evil toward me in the time we've been on the island, but Malfoys can be devious. Maybe he's trying to earn my trust so that he can crush me later in the game.  
  
Then again, there is the slight possibility that he is being friendly to me just for the sake of being friendly. Unlikely as it may seem, I guess he could have changed from the spoiled, self-centered, arrogant jerk that he used to be. And a few days ago, he almost implied that he was only on the dark side, and possibly only in Slytherin, because he had to be on the inside in order to bring it down. But he seemed to fit so well in the role of a Slytherin -- is anyone that good of an actor?  
  
My arms are full of wood, and I've come quite far down the beach. Before heading back, I sit down on a jutting rock, kick off my sneakers and run my toes through the warm sand. If only I weren't playing this game, and eating nothing but rice and coconut and the occasional fish, and had an air-conditioned luxury suite nearby, this island wouldn't be half bad. My toes wiggling in the sand, I start to ponder the Pete situation. Even though all the contestants had to go through mental evaluations before the show to make sure they're not psychotic killers, I'm not quite sure he's what I would call normal. Now that the old members of Miti Matai outnumber the Fetia Rais 5 to 3, we'd still keep our lead if we voted Pete out tomorrow. I can't wait until he and Sheryl leave for their reward night, so I can get together with Kiki and make some sort of plan.  
  
I shake the sand out of my shoes and put them back on. Gathering up my pile of firewood, I slowly make my way back to camp. No sense in hurrying; there's no rush to have the wood, and it's just too hot to even consider expending any extra effort. As I get closer, I see Pete and Kiki talking off to the side from everyone else. Actually, it looks more like Pete doing all the talking, and Kiki listening and nodding while staring at the ground. Pete spots me nearing the camp and with a quick word, they go their separate ways.  
  
Interesting.  
  
The lazy morning progesses into the lazy afternoon. I'm keeping an eye on the sun's track across the sky. Finally in the late afternoon, what I'd guess to be about 4 or 5 o'clock by the sun, we hear a buzzing sound out across the lagoon. Slowly growing louder, the buzzing thing goes from being a speck on the horizon to a small speedboat. As it nears us, we can see Marcus standing in the front of the boat, waving at us. The boat slides up on the sand, and Marcus hops out.  
  
"Pete, Sheryl, it's time to get your reward. If you're ready, we can get going." Marcus beckons to them with his hand. Sheryl immediately hops up and walks down the beach toward Marcus. I'm sure she sees this as a great opportunity to get to know someone on the dominant team, and possibly get in with the group that seems to be on the track to winning. Pete takes a little longer to head down to the boat, making sure first to look at me, then Malfoy, then at Kiki. I'm sure his nod to Kiki has something to do with their little conversation earlier, but right now, Kiki won't make eye contact with me. Pete makes his way down the beach and gets in the boat, and then they're off.  
  
Once the boat has rounded a corner and is again out of sight, Kiki is practically on top of me. She grabs my hand and tugs me toward the jungle. "Let's go down to the waterfall for a while, I could really use a cool dip in the pool." Excellent, she desperately wants to talk to me. I follow her down to the pool. We get in the cool water, swim across, climb out and perch on the rocks on the far side, so we can see anyone coming.  
  
"You are not going to believe this," she begins. "I am now some sort of spy or babysitter or something. Pete took me aside this morning and demanded that I watch you and Draco, and let him know if you two seemed to be planning anything."  
  
"Yeah, I wondered what all that was about. What did you tell him?"  
  
"I told him I'd watch you." I glance at her in surprise. "Of course, I'm not going to report anything to him, but he told me that if I didn't do what he said, he'd make sure I was the next one voted out."  
  
"He's made the same sort of threats to me." I shake my head. "I wonder who else he's threatened. He told me he'd make up horrible lies, tell everyone else that I was saying nasty things about them. I don't think he's quite..." I search for an appropriate word, "stable."  
  
Kiki nods. "I'm not really afraid of him, but he's certainly being really weird."  
  
"Do you think we should consider getting him out of the game?" I'm pretty sure she'll say yes.  
  
"If we do, we'll still be ahead, and you and I and Ellen and Chet can still make the final four. And we can probably get the Fetia Rais to vote for him too. Do you want to talk to Draco about it?"  
  
"What?" I look up at her sharply. "What makes you think I should be the one to talk to him?"  
  
"Well, there is something going on between you, isn't there? At least he sure seems to like you." I shake my head in denial. "Come on, Hermione. I've seen the way he looks at you. I don't know if it's because you remind him of his high school crush, or what. But he's totally into you."  
  
"Oh, honestly. There is absolutely nothing between us."  
  
Kiki grins up at the sky. "Never say never, duckie. You know he's attractive, I know he's attracted, and it's such a romantic location."  
  
"Oh yes. Blazing hot sun. Sweaty, unwashed, hungry people. Very romantic. I don't know why this isn't a top honeymoon destination." Kiki just flashes me an infuriatingly smug smile. I decide a subject change is in order. "So, we should approach Ellen and Chet. Let Ellen know the plan about Pete, and one of us should feel out Chet to find out if he's aligned with Pete at all."  
  
"You talk to Ellen, I'll speak to Chet. Turn on the ol' Kiki charm." She stands up. "And then you can embark on a... liaison with Draco. Find out if his buttery bread is buttered on the same side as ours." With a broad wink, she jumps back into the pool and starts leisurely back to the shore.  
  
"Charming." I hop down into the pool and follow her out of the pool and back to camp. As we separate to find Chet and Ellen, she grabs my arm.  
  
"Butter, my dear." With a grin and a giggle, she wanders away.  
  
Great. Everyone on this island is a complete nutter. And that probably includes me.  
  
I track down Ellen fairly quickly and explain the plan to her. She's very agreeable; even though she hasn't been subjected to Pete's attentions like Kiki and I have, she tells me that he has always made her uneasy. "There's just something about him that makes me not want him to win." I agree. With our plans in place, we start preparing dinner as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.  
  
After eating, Kiki takes me aside and reports that Chet seems to have no loyalty to Pete. She then insists I talk to Draco, but he and Carla seem to have gone off somewhere. As part of the dwindling Fetia Rai team, I'm sure they need to discuss strategy. I wait around the campfire as the sky grows increasingly dark, then takes on an eerie blue glow as a nearly full moon rises over the trees. Patience under pressure is not one of my strong suits, and pretty soon I'm antsy from sitting and waiting. Since the night is so stiflingly hot, I decide to wade out into the lagoon while I wait.  
  
The water is refreshingly cool on my hot skin. I quietly murmur a spell to keep away any enemies, should an inquisitive shark feel the need to bite off my leg. Out I wade, the water moving slowly up my legs, my hips, my stomach. I finally stop when only my shoulders, neck and head are above the water. I'm considerably far out, but I can still clearly see the fires of camp. Doing a slow circle, I can see the flashing red light of a cameraman in a boat, a short distance away from me. Enough to give me some semblance of privacy, but close enough to film anything interesting with a zoom lens and infrared film.  
  
The lapping sounds of the water are very lulling. I turn onto my back and let myself float, my ears underwater, hearing nothing but the vague echoing sounds of the sea. The moon looks huge above me. After a while, I stop floating and find my footing again. I should go back to camp and see if Malfoy has returned.  
  
Then an arm wraps around my waist.  
  
I manage to draw in a breath to scream, but then a hand is clapped over my mouth. Whoever is behind me pulls me toward them. I struggle to get away, then hear a spell whispered in my ear.  
  
Petrificus Totalus. Great. Well, at least I know the identity of my attacker.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you." His whisper is barely audible, not much more than warm breath in my ear. "I'm going to release you. Please don't hit me or anything." He whispers the countercurse and I'm free to move again. Within limits, because Malfoy's arms are both wrapped around me from behind.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" My hiss is quiet enough not to carry, but venomous enough to let him know he's walking on thin ice.  
  
I can feel his head touching my shoulder. Again, his whisper is barely more than a breath on my ear. "We need to talk about this game."  
  
"Oh, do we now?" I tilt my head toward his.  
  
"Wait," he whispers. Then I feel his breath on my neck, but I can't quite make out the words. A quietly uttered swear word makes its way across the water, and I glance over to where the cameraman sits in his boat. The red recording light is off, and I can hear paddles striking the water. Malfoy's mouth is against my ear again. "Aww, looks like the camera ran out of film."  
  
"You want to talk about the game? Fine. What's your game, Malfoy? Why are you here?"  
  
He moves his hands from my waist up to my shoulders and begins to give me a massage. "Oh, I'm sure my reasons are very similar to yours. Quick and easy money, or so I thought." He rubs his thumbs along the knots at the base of my neck. Say what you will about Malfoy, and I've said a lot of negative things about him, he has a great knack for a neck massage.  
  
"What about all the Malfoy riches?"  
  
"Gone. The manor was destroyed in the war, and my father gave most of his money to support Voldemort. And my work during the war didn't pay very much."  
  
"And what kind of work might that be?"  
  
"Mmm." He runs his warm hands down my back under the water. "We should talk about the game."  
  
"And you should't try to distract me with your Malfoy charms." It's taking all of my willpower to concentrate on getting answers out of him. The bastard has very talented hands, and I'm sure he knows it.  
  
"You give me a little, I'll give you a little. What's the deal with Pete?" One hand is still kneading my shoulder, and the other has moved up my neck and is now into my hair, his long fingers caressing my scalp. Evil, evil, evil. I'm lucky it's all information I was going to be giving him anyway, because his torturing technique is very persuasive.  
  
"He thinks there's something going on between us." Malfoy laughs quietly behind me. "He doesn't know what, but he seems certain that I'm conspiring with you. He's been watching me like a hawk to make sure you and I don't enter into some sort of secret pact."  
  
"Ah, so is that why you distracted me during the challenge? To get him away?" One hand on the shoulders, the other now moving along my back, side, and around to my stomach. He pulls me close to him, and I barely manage to contain my gasp. "Or maybe you just wanted to enter into some sort of secret pact."  
  
My body is coccooned in cool water, except for my back, which is pressed against Malfoy's warm chest, and his deliciously warm hands on my skin. I am so incredibly turned on right now.  
  
"Malfoy," I murmur. One hot hand is on my stomach, the other is moving across my collarbone.  
  
"You should always call me Draco. Don't want you messing up during the game."  
  
His hand has moved across my collarbone and is now stroking the front of my neck. "Draco," I whisper. I hope he doesn't notice how the "o" at the end of his name turned into a sigh. I take a breath. "I gave a little, now it's your turn to give a little. What did you do in the war?"  
  
A chuckle in my ear. "I never said I'd give information, just that I'd give... something." He's still holding me around the middle, but not as tightly. He drifts his hand gently along my stomach, leaving a trail of warmth in the cool water. His other hand pulls my hair away from my neck. As I stand there, water lapping against me, with his warm skin pressing against my back, I feel his breath on the back of my neck. My eyes are shut, my mouth is open, taking short gasping breaths. He's a damned dirty bastard, evil incarnate, my nearly lifelong enemy, and I've never felt this aroused.  
  
Warm lips touch my neck, and I feel like melting into him. He lays a trail of soft, gentle kisses up the side of my neck. He reaches my ear, and the combination of lips and warm breath are almost more than I can take. But if he's going to play dirty this way, I can too.  
  
I move my hands from my sides, under the water, and reach behind me. I gently grab him by the hips, which makes him release a gasp of his own in my ear. I run my hands along his hips and around to his ass. He retaliates by lightly grabbing my earlobe with his teeth. I turn my head toward his; his lips move from my ear, across my cheek, and toward my mouth.  
  
He pauses. For a moment we hold where we are; back to front, his arms wrapped around me from behind, one on my stomach, the other on my chest above my breasts, his lips on my cheek, my arms back behind me and my hands on his rear. Then suddenly, his hands and chest and lips are no longer holding me, and the coldness of the water rushes to fill those places he had kept so warm.  
  
"Thanks for the information, Hermione," he laughinly whispers, then with a splash he's swimming back to shore. I shake my head to clear my brain, then notice a new cameraman just arriving in his boat. Relucatantly I trudge through the water back to shore, inwardly cursing Malfoy. Not only did he get all the information, he's also left me with the female equivalent of blue balls. The warm air hits me as I get out of the water. I duck into the shelter and grab one of my shirts to use as a towel.  
  
I find Kiki stoking the fire. "Did you talk to Draco?" Her eyes are glittering at me in the firelight. And for some reason, I don't want to make eye contact with her. I might let her see that she's right in assuming there's "something" between me and Malfoy.  
  
"Yeah. It's all cool. Um... I'm going to bed." I walk toward the shelter.  
  
"Hey, you should be careful swimming alone. I'm glad he went out there to find you; you never know what creatures might want to nibble on your toes."  
  
I wave her off. "I'm not worried." After all, I think as I settle in with my pillow, I cast a spell to keep enemies away. Nothing with bad intentions could have come near me.  
  
And then I realize what that means. 


	22. Day Twenty Seven: Morning

Day Twenty-Seven, Morning  
  
"Hermione." A hazy voice in an equally hazy dream.  
  
I manage to swim my way up from sleep, and open my eyes to find Malfoy's face inches from mine. As I blink blearily at him, he grins broadly. "Good morning, sleepyhead."  
  
"What the hell do you want?" I weakly push Malfoy away from me. Having the great fortune of a pillow, I pull it over my face to block out the sunlight streaming into the shelter.  
  
"There are many things I want." The sound of his voice is muffled because of my pillow, but there's no mistaking the caressing hand on my thigh. I grab my pillow with both hands and push it up and away from my face, right into Malfoy's. He topples backward and lands with a subdued "oof."  
  
I glance around the shelter -- everyone else is already awake and about on their chores, apparently. We are the only ones still inside. As Malfoy starts to use his elbows as leverage to rise, I pounce on top of him. Holding my pillow against his chest and straddling him, I lean my face down close to his.  
  
"You can't always get what you want, Malfoy. Haven't you heard?" I smile sweetly down at him. "Now give me a good reason why I shouldn't put this pillow over your face and improve both of our lives."  
  
"You could never hurt me. I still have so much information that you want." Malfoy stretches his arms out and joins his hands casually behind his head. "Though you could just stay there for as long as you like."  
  
I snort in irritation and get up, then toss my pillow down onto Malfoy's face. Stretching, I wander out of the shelter onto our beach, only to find it deserted. Malfoy quickly joins me.  
  
"Everyone's out already. Look, there's Kiki and Chet out fishing." He points out at the distant boat on the shimmering water of the lagoon. "Ellen and Carla are on a coconut run, and I told them I'd wake you up so we could go get water." He grabs both water jugs and starts into the jungle, then stops and looks back at me. With a sigh, I follow him.  
  
Down at our water source, Malfoy drops the jugs on the shore and wades in. Still feeling sluggish from sleep, I follow and head for the waterfall. Dunking my head under the cool water, I feel somewhat refreshed. Malfoy swims over and stands next to me in the falling water. Before I know it, he grabs me and sweeps me up into his arms. I struggle, but there's really nowhere to go when you're being held suspended in water. Malfoy bends his head slowly toward mine.  
  
The moment feels frozen. Oh God, he's going to kiss me.  
  
Then the moment passes. Wow, he has terrible aim.  
  
Malfoy turns his head and brings his lips down to my ear. With his mouth so close, I can hear him whisper over the rushing sounds of the waterfall. "None of the sound equipment can hear us. We still have some things to talk about. Both game-related and otherwise."  
  
The only way I can whisper back is to lock my arms around his neck and bring his head down closer, which I do. "You still owe me from last night."  
  
A chuckle in my ear. "Owe you information, or do you want to finish what we started?" I'm glad he can't see my face, because right now I can feel my cheeks flushing hotly.  
  
"Information, of course." Another warm, soft laugh in my ear, and I feel like my spine has turned to jelly. "I... ah... still want to know what you've been up to for the last few years. What you did during the war."  
  
"Of course you want to know."  
  
"And I'm sure you want to know what I was doing, too."  
  
"Hmm." He gently nuzzles my ear with the soft tip of his nose. "Maybe I already know."  
  
I'm getting hot and frustrated. And likewise, I'm getting hot and frustrated. Malfoy is amazingly adept at both avoiding my questions and arousing me. Underwater, his fingers are lightly trailing along my back and legs where he's holding me, and his breath against my ear is an erotic tickle.  
  
I bury my fingers in his hair and pull his head closer. I put my own lips against his ear. "Well, if you're not going to share about life, we may as well work on playing the game, yes?" I dart my tongue out and lightly trace the shell of his ear. His arms tighten around me in surprise.  
  
"Which game do you mean?" His whisper is suddenly breathy, with a shudder to it.  
  
"Whichever one you're playing."  
  
"I'm not sure you're up to playing the game I want to play." He lifts his head away from me and gazes at me with his inscrutable silver eyes. With his mesmerizing gaze holding mine, and his warm, strong arms around me, I feel like I could float in this pool forever. His eyes crinkle, and I see that his mouth is turning up in that famous Malfoy smirk.  
  
Game on.  
  
"I think you'll find I can play games as good as any Malfoy." Before my comments can even sink in, I pull his head down to mine and press my lips to his. I feel his quick gasp of shock in my mouth, then he quickly tries to take control of the kiss. His soft lips and darting tongue are incredible. It would be easy to put the game aside, both the game of surviving and the teasing game between us, and just get lost in Malfoy's amazing kiss. I let my tongue slide along his lower lip, then grab it lightly in my teeth. Malfoy's hands are mindlessly roaming along my body, his grip loosening. I return to the kiss, our mouths greedily meeting, each attempting to dominate the other. And then, sensing my chance, I break the kiss and push away from Malfoy, loosing myself from his grasp. My feet find the rocky bottom of the pool, and I quickly move so that there's a couple of feet of space between us.  
  
Malfoy seems a bit short of breath. His silver eyes meet mine, hooded and dark with passion. He licks his lips.  
  
"Good move." He suddenly drops down, submerging completely underwater. I can see his golden form in the clear water, swimming toward shore. He leaves the pool and grabs one of the water jugs, slowly filling it. I make my way over to the shore and grab my own jug, kneeling down near Malfoy to fill it.  
  
Suddenly I'm shoved over onto my back, my water jug knocked out of my hands. Malfoy is leaning over me, his face once again inches from mine. But this time he's holding my legs down with one of his, and holding a flat hand against my stomach.  
  
"Good move, but I find that opening moves in any game are merely a prelude." He runs his lips along my cheek as his fingers caress my belly. "The best moves happen much later. But time is growing short, and we really need to discuss an entirely different game." He rises from me and returns to calmly filling his water jug. "Pete wants me gone."  
  
"Doesn't matter."  
  
"You're in an alliance with him."  
  
I look over at him, startled. "How do you know that?"  
  
"Doesn't matter."  
  
I sigh with exasperation. "Well then, you probably also know that my only real alliance is with Kiki. And we've also told Ellen that we will possibly have an all-woman alliance. Pete isn't going to make it to the finals."  
  
"That's a stupid move," he mutters. I look at him, to find him calmly capping his water jug. "Think about it -- everyone likes both you and Kiki. That would be a tough decision for the jury. But if you take someone like Pete to the final two, someone everybody hates, your chance of winning would be so much better."  
  
I think about his advice for a minute in silence. He's absolutely right.  
  
"Why do you sound like you're trying to help me?"  
  
"Because former tribal alliances are strong, and it looks like my side is the one that's going to lose. And if I can't win that money, then you're definitely the one it should go to."  
  
I open my mouth, close it, open it, close it. I can't think of what to say to this.  
  
"Come on, Hermione. We should get back. Pete and Sheryl should be back by now, and I bet it's about time to head for the challenge." Malfoy gets up and turns to head toward camp.  
  
"Draco." I reach out my hand and touch his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly turns to me. "I... um..." I search his eyes, and find no malice or spite there. "I don't want you to leave this game."  
  
He stares at me for a moment. "What do you propose?"  
  
"I'm already in a couple of alliances. What's one more?" A grin slowly spreads across his face. He takes my hand from his shoulder and brings it to his lips, gently kissing the back in a strangely gallant fashion.  
  
"Deal." He grabs both full water jugs and uses a spell to make them light. He makes quick eye contact with me, then lowers his voice to a husky whisper. "I look forward to seeing the end."  
  
As he walks back to camp ahead of me, I pause for a moment, wondering where I'd heard those familiar words before. 


	23. Day Twenty Seven: Evening

Day Twenty-Seven, evening  
  
I'm still puzzling over Malfoy's statement about "the end" when we get back to camp. I know it's something I'm familiar with, but I can't figure out the source.  
  
The other six players are all in the general area of our shelter, tackling various chores. I catch Pete's glance toward me and veer sharply away from him in another direction. I find Kiki splitting some coconuts under the trees and sit down next to her.  
  
"Change of plan."  
  
She pauses briefly in her assault on the coconut in front of her. "I'm all ears."  
  
"Perhaps it's in our best interest to keep Pete on." She pauses again and opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "Look, I'm in this with you. But if one of us leaves the game for whatever reason, just think about which player we'd be able to beat in the final. Nobody likes Pete. Whichever one of us made it to the last two would have it made."  
  
Kiki continues with her coconuts in silence, pondering. After a couple of minutes, she takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I can see what you mean. I just don't like the idea of Pete having any chance at all to win the game."  
  
"Well, he'd just be security. But you know I want to go to the finals with you."  
  
Kiki looks at me with a gentle smile. "You know that's not true. Because then you'd not be sure of winning." I open my mouth but then shut it again, because she's absolutely right. "Look, duckie. No matter where we met, we would have become friends. And I believe that no matter what the outcome of this game, we'll remain friends on the outside. So let's go ahead and be honest with each other. Against you, the finals would be questionable. And much as we like each other, we both still want to win this game. One of us is going to have to fall along the way. But if I can't be the one to win, I honestly hope that it's you."  
  
"Wow." Everything she's said is right, and I'm amazed that in this game of deception, she's come right out to say it. "You're right. Of course you're right. But I want to stay in this together as long as possible."  
  
"What about Draco?"  
  
I hesitate for a moment. "Um... what about him?"  
  
"I'd have to be blind as a bat or as thick as Pete to miss it, duck. I can see that he's very into you, and I think you feel the same way. And I know you two have had some time alone together. How does he fit into your game?"  
  
I feel a slight blush creep across my cheeks at the mention of a game between me and Malfoy. If only she knew. "All right, you've been honest with me, I'll be honest with you." I take a moment to arrange my thoughts. "I think I'm going to go into an alliance with him. And I think I'd like the three of us to be the final three. To hell with Pete -- any chance he could have of winning is still a chance. I say let's go to the final three, and whoever wins that last endurance challenge can make their decision from there. Because next to me or you, Draco is my next choice to win."   
  
I realize as I tell Kiki all of this that I actually believe what I'm saying.  
  
She looks at me thoughtfully. "But then, who would win? It's not guaranteed."  
  
I look straight into her eyes. "If I have to lose, I'd rather lose to someone who I like. I'd rather take my chances with you or Draco than even risk the thought of Pete winning this game."  
  
Kiki puts away her machete and coconuts, nods slowly and holds her hand out to me for a handshake. "You have a deal, Hermione."  
  
We shake on it, briefly hug, then rejoin with the rest of the team to get ready for the challenge.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Marcus is waiting for us as usual, and as we file in to the challenge area, he begins his spiel.  
  
"Today will be a purely physical challenge. Two of you will face off against each other. You will stand on either end of this log," he indicates a log resting across a pool of water, "and duel."  
  
He holds up what looks like a big stick with huge pads on either end, and I'm reminded of the television show "American Gladiators."  
  
"The player to fall into the water first is out. We'll draw random names for opponents. The eight of you will be knocked down to four, then in the next round four will become two, then those final two will battle for immunity at tonight's Tribal Council. If you're ready, we'll draw names."  
  
In the first round, I'm paired up against Ellen. We put on helmets and make our way to the log over the pool. Marcus shouts at us to start, and I swing wildly at Ellen, who doesn't seem to have the best sense of balance on the log to begin with. She's barely able to move her padded stick before I knock her over into the water. Marcus announces that I will move on to the next round as Carla and Malfoy are donning their helmets. Their round is just as quick as mine, with Malfoy quickly knocking Carla into the water. Kiki and Sheryl bat at each other and flail for almost a minute before Kiki finally falls into the water. Then Pete and Chet spend what feels like hours feinting and dodging each other, until with a snarl, Pete finally pushes Chet into the water.  
  
We're allowed a few moments of rest before the next names are drawn. Of course, since there are two women and two men in this round, the hated Fates make sure that both contests are mixed-sex. First up is a very quick round between Pete and Sheryl, ending with Sheryl practically flying into the water from a blow to the midsection. As she surfaces and sputters, the arrogant look on Pete's face makes him incredibly ugly. He struts over to Marcus and hands off his helmet. So now, it's time for me to battle Malfoy.  
  
We strap on our helmets, gather up our padded sticks and walk side-by-side to the battle area. We take our places at either end of the log and wait for Marcus to let us start. Malfoy makes eye contact with me.  
  
"Game on? No help?" He grins at me, his eyes twinkling. No help, meaning no magic.  
  
"You're on."   
  
Marcus tells us to begin. Malfoy's taking his time, waiting for the perfect hit, while I take small jabs at him, trying to throw him off balance. But even without magic, he's amazingly graceful. He dodges my moves, and as I try to hit him on the left side of his torso, he quickly brings his weapon around and hits me on my unprotected side. The hit is gentle enough not to hurt me, but strong enough to push me off the log into the water. By the time I've surfaced and made it to the shore, he's come around off the log and is holding his hand out to gallantly help me up. I grab hold, and he pulls me up out of the water. We're close for a moment, and I whisper to him, "kick his ass."  
  
Now it's just Malfoy against Pete.  
  
After another brief rest period, they put on their helmets and take their places. We losing players are seated on a grassy area in the shade, close enough to see Malfoy's lips move but just far enough away that I can't hear whatever Malfoy quietly says to Pete. However, I can clearly see the snarl on Pete's face in response. As soon as Marcus tells them to start, Pete is wildly swinging at Malfoy, who manages to duck a couple of the blows but is quickly knocked aside by Pete's fury.  
  
Marcus calls out Pete's name as the winner, and walks over to him with the immunity necklace. I hop up and run over to the pool, offering Malfoy a helping hand out of the water. He grabs it without hesitation, and I help to pull him up onto the shore.  
  
"Intersting fighting technique. What did you say to him that made him so upset?"  
  
"Doesn't matter." I sigh in exasperation, and Malfoy looks down at me with a gleam in his eye. "Worried about me?" I roll my eyes and rejoin the rest of the group as they make their way back toward camp.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
We only have a couple of hours to eat a quick dinner and gather our thoughts before it's time to leave for Tribal Council. Kiki and I catch a quick moment alone and ponder our choices; the old Miti Matai is up 5 to 3, so even though we can't vote out Pete, we could get rid of one of our former tribemates if one of them is too big a threat. We decide that nobody on our former team is terribly dangerous to our game, and we'll continue to whittle away at the Fetia Rai players by getting rid of Carla. It's easy to rationalize our decision, because Carla has been looking very tired lately. Nearly a month surviving on a tropical island has taken its toll on her 50-year-old body.  
  
As we put on our warmer evening clothes and sit around tying shoelaces and packing bags, Pete finds me.  
  
"So that's the way you're going, is it?"  
  
I look at him blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Oh, no. Of course you don't." He sneers at me. "Too bad you and your boyfriend can't get rid of me tonight. I guess I'll be around for at least a few more days."  
  
"Hey, Pete." Malfoy's voice sounds deeper than usual, as he steps up to us. Pete jumps visibly at the intrusion. "Is there a problem here? Or do you just not remember what I told you?"  
  
Pete glares at Malfoy. "No problem. Just wishing Hermione luck for tonight's Tribal Council. You never know who's going to be going home." He stalks off into the growing darkness.  
  
"All right, now I absolutely MUST know what you said to him on the log."  
  
"If you're a good girl, I'll tell you later. Right now, I need to check on our alliance."  
  
"Kiki and I have decided on Carla. She's telling Ellen, and I'm to tell you."  
  
"Sounds fine." He turns, starting toward the trees. I grab his arm and stop him.  
  
"Won't you tell me now?"  
  
"Later. Be a good girl."  
  
I lean in close to him and whisper in his ear. "What if I'm a bad girl?"  
  
Malfoy pulls back and grins at me. "Ah, if only you'd known me before this game." He drops a wink at me and moves in very close, pulling me to him with his arm around my waist. His voice drops to a husky whisper. "You'd know that I'm the kind of guy who finds bad to be irresistable."   
  
"I hate to interrupt you lovebirds," comes Kiki's voice from beside us, "but it's time to go."  
  
The voting is unsurprising tonight. I know that Kiki, Ellen, Draco and I all voted for Carla. Chet fell in with the rest of us in voting for Carla. Carla and Sheryl both voted for Chet, and one vote in large block letters declared DRACO. Not too challenging to figure out. Carla's torch is snuffed, Marcus gives his closing speech, and we're free to go back to camp.  
  
Pete storms his way through the underbrush. The others file behind him, while Malfoy and I follow in the rear of the pack.  
  
"Tell me what you said to him."  
  
"Not right now, thanks."  
  
"You know, I could make you tell me if I wanted to."  
  
"Could, but won't. That would be cheating. And I do believe you're the type of person who values honesty and integrity above everything else, even in a game like this."  
  
Damn it, he has me there. Gryffindor traits, through and through.  
  
We make it back to camp in the dark. Pete has already gone to the farthest corner of the shelter and is curled up there. The others all climb in and find spots to sleep. Malfoy and I enter last, and find there's only enough space at the other end from Pete. Malfoy grabs my pillow and settles in, resting his head on it.  
  
I can see his silver eyes gleaming in the moonlight. I kneel down and reach around his head to get my pillow, and feel his arms around my waist. He pulls me down next to him, so that my body is curled up against him and my head is resting on his chest. I struggle for a moment, but then just give in to being cradled against his warm body, with one arm wrapped around my waist and the other gently stroking my hair. I'm just about asleep when I feel him crane his head forward slightly so he can whisper in my ear.  
  
"I told him to stay the hell away from my girl." 


	24. Day Twenty Eight

Day Twenty-Eight

_I'm in a ruined, burned out building.  The door is smashed to splinters on the floor, and I can see out the empty doorway to a large, empty field.  The building is very dark, so I move toward the doorway.  As I near it, I can see the light outside fading, until it's dark as night._

_I emerge from the building to find the field gone, and in its place a dark forest.  I turn around, but I'm surrounded by trees on all sides.  I hear a whispering voice, and duck down behind some bushes.  Ghostly figures draped all in black drift past, but nobody seems to take notice of me._

_Suddenly, light fills the forest.  I look up to see the Dark Mark floating above the trees – a grotesque, shining death's head with skull and snake entwined, glowing an unearthly green._

_He's still alive.  The war isn't over.  And I'm out in the field._

_I shouldn't be in the field!  I'm Intelligence!  I can't lie to save my life!  I'm in the wrong place!_

_I turn around to find a way to escape, but my way is blocked by the cloaked figures.  Their hoods cover their faces.  I turn back, but I'm surrounded by these mysterious figures and their soft whispering._

_Then the whispering stops._

_Two figures step forward right in front of me.  One pulls his hood back, exposing a face more of a snake than of a man.  Cruelly pale, with thin slits for nostrils and piercing, evil eyes._

_I am here, and Voldemort is standing right in front of me._

_The other figure, still hooded, steps forward and holds out one hand.  Clenched in the hand is a wand.  They're offering it to me, and I take it.  They stand quietly, without protection._

_Voldemort hisses and turns to the hooded figure.  "You have turned," he rasps._

_The hooded figure kneels in front of me, then raises its head.  Hands come up, and move the hood back.  The head of Draco Malfoy is revealed out of the dark cloak.  He holds both hands out to me, palms up, and whispers, "I look forward to seeing the end."_

_Voldemort's voice comes floating out of the darkness, a cruelly whispered curse.  "Avada Kedavra."_

_Malfoy is enveloped in a pulse of incredibly green light._

_And I scream._

_Voldemort's wand turns to me, and as he whispers the words, I feel a heavy weight in my stomach.  So this is what it feels like to die._

I wake up breathless and panting, the vision of Voldemort still in front of my eyes for a brief moment.  As my eyes adjust to the dark, I see the thatch of palm fronds above me and remember where I am.  I realize there's still a heavy feeling in my stomach.  Malfoy's arm is laying across my midsection as he sleeps.

I gently maneuver myself out from under his arm.  Fortunately I'm near the edge of the shelter, and I can slip out into the night without disturbing anyone.  I wish I had my watch, so I'd know what time it was.  The air hits my skin as I make my way down the beach, and I realize that I'm coated with sweat.  I sit down on the sand and lay back, looking at the clear sky.  The moon is off on business on the other side of the planet, leaving a sky chock full of stars.  Civilization, even in the wizarding world, never has this many stars.  And I've only seen the sky from a bustling Muggle city for years.  The sky reminds me of the Great Hall back at Hogwarts.

I hear a shuffling in the sand and open my eyes to see Malfoy pass overhead.  I close my eyes again and hear him sit down in the sand next to me.  After a few moments of comfortable silence in the warm night air, I sit up.

"Something?"  His whisper barely carries to my ear.

"Nightmare."

I can feel him lean slightly toward me, but not close enough to touch me.  I can almost hear his offer to talk about it, if I want to.  But he doesn't say anything.  I'm amazed that I can be this comfortable with him, and that I can sense his willingness to listen.

"What time do you think it is?"

He glances at the sky, pondering the stars.  "About four o'clock, maybe four-thirty."

"It was about him."  Malfoy remains silent, allowing me to talk if I want.  "I was in a forest.  Dark.  And there were lots of people there."

He picks up my hand in his and twines our fingers together, but doesn't say a word.  He tilts his head to the side and leans toward me, so I can whisper quietly without being overheard by any of the cameramen or their microphones.

"He – um – you, you said something, and then…" I breathed deep, "he killed you.  You gave me your wand, then you said something, and he got angry and killed you.  Then he turned on me and started to kill me.  Then I woke up."

"I'm here, unhurt, and you're safe now," he whispers.  I feel his warm arm go around my shoulders, and he pulls me into a hug.  I'm startled at his gentleness, and even more startled that I completely believe his words – that in his arms I am, indeed, safe.

I want to ask him questions, find out what he thinks of my dream, but the more tired side of my brain takes over, and I'm lulled into a warm and comfortable haze, wrapped in Malfoy's arms.

Suddenly he's shaking me, and the sky has become bright.  I blink and squint, only to find that the sun has come up.  I must have fallen asleep in Malfoy's arms, because it's now obviously several hours later.

"Hey, we should go take care of the fire.  Everyone will be up soon."  He gets up, dusts the sand off his shorts, and holds out a hand to help me up.  I'm reminded vaguely of my dream, where he held out his wand, but shake it out of my head.  I grasp his hand, and he pulls me up to my feet.

We busy ourselves with making sure the fire is burning strong enough to cook breakfast.  Within moments, Kiki staggers blearily out of the shelter, rubbing her eyes and stretching.  One by one, the rest of the tribe rise for the morning.

It's an off day from all challenges, and we draw up plans to get some chores done.  Wood needs to be gathered, as well as food and water.  Pete is glaring at Malfoy the entire time we discuss the division of labor.  Kiki and Chet take the boat and set off to fish.  Pete and Ellen take the water jugs down to the waterfall, and Malfoy and Sheryl head up the beach to collect more firewood.  I'm charged with gathering fruits and coconuts, so I start off into the underbrush.  Searching around under the palm trees, and occasionally surreptitiously transfiguring rocks into perfectly ripe coconuts, I'm left with some precious time alone to think.

In my dream, Malfoy willingly gave his wand, his only defense, to me.  And that angered Voldemort.  It doesn't take Sibyll Trelawney to realize the symbolism.  Malfoy was putting his faith in me, or in the light side, and putting his life in my hands.  That betrayal was an angering surprise to Voldemort.

Was Malfoy telling the truth in his roundabout way, when he told me that you can play for one team even when you're on the other?  Seems like my subconscious is more than willing to accept the fact that he was probably working for the light.  And what was the phrase he whispered to me after giving me his wand?  The words that were crystal clear after the dream were now muddy and faded in my memory.  Something about finishing something.  But the words had sounded so familiar, like I should know them.

I gather up the few fruits I've found and my transfigured coconuts and return to camp.  The pile of firewood is high again, and there's water merrily boiling over the fire.  Everyone is returning from their chores, and we spend the rest of the day relaxing and socializing.  Every now and then, when Malfoy passes me by, he'll gently touch my hand or shoulder.  Just enough to let me know he's there for me if I need him, but not obtrusive in whatever I'm doing.  Three other members of the camp seem completely oblivious that there's anything between the two of us.  Then there's Kiki, constantly smiling at one of us or dropping me a saucy wink, and Pete, who is apparently so overloaded with glares that he's sharing them with everyone.

Throughout the day and into the evening, the group stays together and chatters like a troupe of monkeys.  Malfoy and I can't get a chance to step away, so once again we must hold on to what we want to say and ask.  We make our way into the shelter for the night, and Malfoy lays down next to me, as if it's his marked spot.  I move my pillow so that he can share it.

As usual here on Unknown Island, I end the day with more questions and too few answers.


	25. Day Twenty Nine

Sole Survivor  
Day Twenty-Nine

We're all up early this morning, waiting for our challenge message to arrive. Nobody looks forward to the immunity challenges, because we know we have to go to Tribal Council afterward. But the reward challenges have become highlights of our time on the island.

After we finish our miniscule lunch of rice and coconut, the seven of us leave camp for the challenge site. Marcus is there waiting for us, standing in the middle of a semicircle of cushions and blocks. We're all invited to sit down on the cushions and pick up our blocks, which have the letters "A" through "D" and the words "true" and "false" written on the six sides.

"Today we're going to have a test." Marcus smiles at us and pulls a handful of index cards out of his pocket. "Basic knowledge of island life and survival techniques. The person who answers the most questions right out of ten will win the reward. Do you all want to know what you're playing for?"

It's the same question he asks every time, and we all nod on cue. He stows his index cards away and reaches into another pocket. He reveals a thick stack of envelopes tied together with a cord. "These are letters from home. You've been out here for over four weeks without any contact with your friends or family, so we've asked them to write you a letter."

He starts flipping through the pile. "Ellen, your husband Ted wrote you a letter." At this, I can see tears begin to well up in Ellen's eyes. "Chet, this letter is from your girlfriend, Rose. Hermione," he turns to me, "your letter is from your parents." Hardly surprising, since they're the only ones who know I'm out here.

Sheryl's letter is from her husband. Kiki and Pete both have letters from a sister. Then Marcus turns to Malfoy. "Draco, your letter is from your best friend, Harry."

I realize my mouth is hanging open, and shut it.

Draco, who is sitting on my left, is watching Marcus. I give him a gentle poke in the side, making him look at me. I give him my best inquisitive raised eyebrow, and he returns a wide-eyed innocent look, accompanied by a wink. This is certainly a new twist.

Marcus tells us to grab our cubes and get ready for the quiz. He'll read the question, let us think about it for a few seconds, then he'll ask us to show him our answer.

"First question: If you step on a sea urchin, the best response is to soak the wound in salt water. True or false?" We all think about it for a moment. I should know the answer to this question. I studied up on tropical island living. But ... _best friend Harry?_

"Time to show me your answers." Marcus looks at us expectantly. Startled, I look down at my cube and twist it in my hands. Sure, salt water sounds as good as anything. I maneuver my cube until the word "true" points toward Marcus.

At least I'm not the only idiot. Ellen also gets this one wrong. "The answer is false, a sea urchin sting should be treated by soaking in an acidic solution, like vinegar. That gives Pete, Kiki, Chet, Sheryl and Draco each one point, while Ellen and Hermione are still at zero."

I hear Malfoy snigger under his breath next to me. Bastard.

I do pretty much as well on the next nine questions, only getting four of them right. I'm in sorry shape, taking last place in this challenge. The other women have done somewhat better, with scores ranging from five to eight. Chet and Draco also have eight, but Pete wins the contest with nine correct answers.

"Pete, come over here and get your letter from your sister." Marcus pulls Pete's letter out of his stack and holds it out. Just as Pete reaches for the letter, Marcus stops him. "As the winner, we're also going to give you a choice."

Pete looks suspiciously at Marcus, who continues. "It's up to you, Pete. You decide, right now, as the winner of this challenge. Either you can just get your letter, or you can choose to let everyone have their letter from home."

Oh, this is going to kill Pete. I just know that he'd hate for the likes of Malfoy or me to get our letters, but that this is also a chance to score major points with the rest of the team. A good deed like this could keep his ass in the game.

Pete thinks about it for what feels like a long time, but is probably less than thirty seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, and no sound comes out. He clears his throat, presumably of the rage that was choking him. "Marcus, I'd like _all_ of my _great_ teammates to get their letters too."

Marcus passes the letters to us. I try to catch a glimpse of the handwriting on the letter to Malfoy, but he shields it from me and gives me a sly grin. We trudge back to the camp with our letters clutched in our hands, then each find our own separate solitudes in which to open them. I head down to the far end of the beach and perch on my favorite rock.

I didn't think I missed my folks that much, but opening that letter and seeing my mother's cheery handwriting makes a tear come to my eye. The letter is full of trivial nonsense – my cat is doing well, but missing me. The weather has been cool recently. A cousin is getting on everyone's nerves trying to over-plan a wedding that's not even going to happen for six more months. Muggle life is continuing on, relatively unaware of my absence. Mom reminds me that they love me, and they can't wait until I'm home.

I read it ravenously, several times, until the pages start to get blurry and a shadow blocks out the sun.

I look up to find Malfoy in front of me, equally blurry. I blink my eyes a few times to clear away the tears gathered there. Malfoy reaches out a hand and tenderly wipes the tears away from my cheeks. I look up at him and suddenly realize how incredibly lucky I am to have him here. Everyone else has been completely separated from their loved ones, their friends, their coworkers, their families. At least I have a familiar face here, some small link to the outside world. I wonder if Malfoy feels the same way about me. Even if he doesn't, I'm still stramgely happy to have him near.

I stand up from my rock, face-to-face with Malfoy, and give him a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

"What's that for?" He whispers in my ear, his arms wrapped around me.

"Even if you're the biggest jerk asshole ferret in the world, I'm glad you're here," I whisper back.

Malfoy snorts with laughter, then squeezes me close. He releases me, and I sit back down on my rock. "Was your letter good?"

"Yeah, my folks miss me, blah blah blah. Nothing that exciting, but it was still nice to read. How was your letter? Best friend, wasn't it? Harvey, or something like that?"

"Just as uneventful, I'm sure. Want to read it?"

Malfoy holds his letter out to me and allows me to take it from his hand. I look at his face, but his expression isn't telling me anything. If he's letting me read it, then obviously the _best friend Harry_ can't be the same Harry that I know.

I look down at the handwriting on the letter. I look up at Malfoy. I do a double-take at the letter.

_Malfoy,_ as Ricky Ricardo was wont to say to Lucy, _you've got some 'splaining to do._

He stands there quietly as I read his letter. Things are uneventful. The weather has been unseasonably cool lately. A lady named Hedwig is doing fine. The writer has obviously gone to great trouble to not mention anything wizard-specific, for certainly the producers of the show will have already read these letters before they were given to us.

The last paragraph from Malfoy's best friend, Harry, written in an untidy scrawl relatively unchanged in the last dozen years, makes the tears start rolling from my eyes.

_I really should write Min, too. Haven't seen her for a while. I feel like it's been ages. I've barely seen her ... well, since that big "fight." You know what I mean. Anyway, I hear she's doing well. I still think you should go see her. There's so much she doesn't know, but it was never my place to tell her. Hell, she probably thinks I hate your guts. Tell you what, buddy. When you get back from that tropical paradise (wink nudge), let's go out for a beer. I can get her there. Then you can tell her all the things you keep telling me you should say to her, and I won't have to listen to your damn lovestruck mooning all the time._

_Hoping you're having fun in paradise,_  
_Harry_

I reread the end of his letter several times before I can bring my eyes up to meet Malfoy's. And I'm astounded to see tears in his eyes, mirroring my own.

Malfoy sighs heavily, then moves beside me. He nudges me gently, and I scoot over on my rock to make enough room for him to sit beside me. We both stare out at the ocean for a while as the sky slowly darkens. A scattering of clouds far out over the water reflect the light of the setting sun, making them glow an eerie but beautiful shade of orange.

Finally, Malfoy lifts his hand to his face and scratches his upper lip. Behind his hand, he quietly whispers a silencing charm. Then he turns his head to me, away from the cameras, but with his eyes downcast. As he watches my hands holding his letter, he finally speaks.

"I have a lot to explain."

"Mmm-hmm," I make a small noise of assent without opening my mouth. I don't think I can trust myself to speak.

"Um." I've never seen Malfoy this much at a loss for words. "I … ah. Um." He glances around for something to focus on, then stiffens. I follow his gaze to find Pete walking toward us. He's making it look like a casual stroll down the beach, but he's obviously aimed right for us, and will be here in a minute or two.

Malfoy quickly turns back to me, but this time looks me in the eyes. "I need to gather my thoughts anyway. But I promise I'll tell you everything. Whatever you want to know. Tomrorow." He stands up from the rock, checks on Pete's progress, then quickly turns back to me.

"You probably figured it out from the letter, but..." His eyes are locked with mine, and there's no hint of malice there. None of the loathing, the scorn, not even the mockery. In fact, if I didn't know any better…

"I love you."

He quickly turns away and walks back toward camp. Pete stops in his tracks, turns, and watches Malfoy walk away. After glancing toward me, Pete decides to follow Malfoy back.

I realize my mouth is hanging open again. I quickly shut it, then make my own slow way back to camp for the night.


	26. Day Thirty

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty

I don't think it would be surprising to say that I slept poorly last night.  Several things kept running through my mind.  First and foremost, Malfoy telling me he loves me.  With no malice, no cunning, and no evil.  Pushing that aside, I moved on to the fact that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, a guy with no love lost for anything Slytherin, is apparently Malfoy's best friend.

The handwriting on the letter was perfectly recognizable.  Harry's untidy scrawl had appeared on letters addressed to me for years.  I hadn't heard from him in the last six months or so, but I'd be able to recognize his writing anywhere.

So, where does that leave me?  Tossing and turning inside a roughly built hut, listening to the sleeping sounds of six other people.  Or maybe only five.  If I'm lucky, Malfoy is having just as hard a time sleeping as I am – it would only serve him right for dropping the love bomb on me.  I can't tell if he's sleeping or not, since he's not in what has become his usual place, next to me.  Maybe he's giving me some space.  All I know is that it feels colder and emptier without him by my side.

Finally, the sky is starting to get brighter.  I get up and maneuver out of the shelter, since there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep any more.  By the time the rest of the group is up, I've already gathered some coconuts for breakfast, stoked the fire and started a pot of rice.

Malfoy looks disheveled, with dark circles under his eyes.  Excellent.  At least I'm not the only one running on too little sleep.  He's keeping busy with morning chores, and doesn't seem to want to make eye contact with me.  He almost seems … afraid.

I walk down the beach and sit down in the sand, shocked.  Malfoy, afraid of me.

The truth is amazing when you finally realize it.

If he lied about the love, he wouldn't be afraid.  He'd be pestering me, smirking at me, trying his best to get me to confess love in return, so that he could then rub his lies in my face.  He'd be actively wooing me, not behaving like a puppy that expects to be hit.  

I look up the beach at Malfoy.  He's sitting in the sand himself, working on husking coconuts.  Or at least holding a coconut in his hands as he watches me.  I'm only able to catch his eye for a second, then he quickly ducks his head back down and fumbles with his coconut.  He's either the greatest actor in the world, or he's genuinely concerned about my reaction.

I start back to my ruminating, but am interrupted by Kiki's bottom plopping down in the sand next to me.  "Trouble in paradise?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You and Draco is what I'm talking about.  You seem to be avoiding each other."  Kiki leans back and runs her fingers through the sand.  "Of course, if this has something to do with our alliance in the game, I should be informed.  But on the other hand, if it's a personal matter, I really shouldn't be snooping.  But the unfortunate thing is, I'm the biggest snoop in the world."

I chuckle at Kiki and reassure her.  "The alliance is fine."

"And?"

"And you're right, you're the biggest snoop in the world."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"  Kiki shifts to her knees, then stands up.  "I'm going to see what's up with him."

I jump to my feet.  "Um … no, really, there's nothing going on.  You don't need to do that."

She grins at me.  "I wonder if that's what Draco would say, too?  Well, only one way to find out."

Kiki turns away from me and takes a step toward Malfoy.  I grab her on the arm, tugging her gently back to me.  She turns to look at me, smiling widely.  Trapped.

I sigh.  "Fine.  You win.  Look at me, going over to talk to Draco."  The truth is, I desperately want to talk to him.  Especially after his promise to tell me everything.  It's just that I don't like feeling forced into anything.

"Just remind him of how much you resemble his secret school crush.  That should make him smile again."  Kiki pushes me toward Draco.

That's right, the secret school crush.  How could I have forgotten that?  Draco letting slip to Kiki that I bear such a strong resemblance to the mysterious, bookish, brilliant girl who went to his school.  But now, since Malfoy's big confession, I have the feeling that the tale of the secret crush has more than a small element of truth to it.  Of course, it's just another part of the "everything" that I hope to learn from Malfoy.

I make my way over to where Malfoy is still husking coconuts and sit down on the sand next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

"Good morning, Draco.  Sleep well?"

"Um."  He takes a deep breath, then chances a quick look in my eyes.  He just as quickly moves his glance away, back to his coconut.  "No, not really.  Must be the humidity."

I look at him for a long moment, rest my chin on my knees and sigh.  "You act as if I'm going to hit you."

His hands grow still, resting on top of a coconut.  He stares at them.  "If you did, I'd deserve it."  His whispered voice has an edge to it I've never heard before.  Raw, open, almost quivering on the verge of tears.  Those six simple words carry the weight of a thousand apologies for a thousand wrongs, and I realize immediately that not only is it sincere, it's also more than enough.

I feel a burning in the back of my throat and in my eyes, but will myself not to cry.  I reach out and put my hand over one of his, squeezing gently.  I open my mouth to speak just as I hear a shuffling in the sand.

Blinking back my unshed tears, I look up to see Pete passing in front of us, glaring down at our joined hands.  He shuffles past, loudly kicking sand ahead of him as he walks.  Just as Pete gets far enough away that I feel I can safely speak without being overheard, I hear voices from the other side of camp declaring the arrival of our challenge notice.

Malfoy untangles his hand from mine and stands up next to me, brushing sand from his legs.  He offers a hand to help me up, which I gladly take.  He pulls me to my feet and for a moment we're looking at each other.  His eyes are full of worry and anguish, and it hurts me that I'm the reason it's there.  

"We need to go," he mutters, but doesn't move to leave.

"Look."  I grab his hand again and intertwine our fingers.  "I need to think about some stuff, which I'm sure you understand.  But whatever big hurt you think I'm going to throw your way isn't going to happen."

He still looks at me with those pitiful eyes.  "I should never have told you.  There's no way I could expect someone to forgive … or forget, let alone …"

"Oh gods," I interrupt him.  "You're worse than a woman."  Hopefully this will convince him that I'm not about to break his tender heart.  I tug his hand so that he takes a step toward me, reach up behind his neck with my other hand and pull his head down to me, planting my lips on his.  He stiffens for a moment, then wraps his free arm around my waist.

It's a short kiss, but very, very nice.  His lips are soft and warm, gentle but still filled with passion.

We break apart and I check his eyes.  There's a little more confidence there, and less of the anguish.  He smiles and pulls me toward the other side of camp, where the rest of the tribe must be.

"You still have a lot to tell me, as promised."

"I know, but now is certainly not the time."

I smack him lightly on the ass.  "Yes, but I'll collect as soon as I possibly can."

We find the other members of the group reading over today's message, and learn that we need to leave for the challenge site immediately.  After everyone makes sure they have their shoes on, we trek into the jungle.

We emerge from the trees to one of our familiar challenge areas, but it's been made completely unrecognizable by a series of very tall walls.  Marcus is there to greet us, as always.

"For today's immunity challenge, all you need to do is navigate this maze.  There are five stations inside the maze, each with numbered tile markers.  At each station, you'll take one of the markers and return it to the center of the maze.  You may only carry one marker at a time.  In the center, there's a board with all of your names on it, and five pegs next to your name.  Hang your tiles in order, one through five, on the pegs next to your name.  The first person to fill their row on the board wins immunity."

We take our places in the center of the maze.  When Marcus shouts at us to go, we all head off into different directions into the maze.  As I run, I'm puzzling over what spell I can use.  I could use the same transparency spell I used on a blindfold in an earlier challenge, but with the walls transparent, I'd run into them.

I move forward into the maze, cursing myself for not being able to think of a spell.  I run into a dead end and have to backtrack and take another path.  Finally, I find a board with seven tiles hanging from it, all marked with the number three.  I grab one and try to remember how to return to the center of the maze.  I'm not doing so well on this challenge.

I finally make it back to the center of the maze and hang my tile on the third peg next to my name.  I see that Malfoy's already been here with a number five tile, Pete has left a number two and Kiki has returned a number one.  I dash down another path and take the first left, nearly knocking Malfoy down.  He has a tile with the number four on it.

He quickly whispers, "left, second right, left," gently touches my face and continues on past me.  With his instructions, I quickly find my own tile and backtrack to the center of the maze.  By now, everyone has at least one tile on the board.  I add my second and choose another passage.

I take several wrong turns and am ready to turn back when Pete barrels toward me from the left, a tile bearing the number five in his hand.  Obviously I don't move aside fast enough for his tastes.

"Get the hell out of my way," he growls at me.

"Real nice, Pete!"  I shout over my shoulder as I take the path where he'd emerged.

He snarls at me, but right now the challenge is more important than being an asshole to me.  He runs back toward the center of the maze, and I quickly find my number five tile.  I return to the center of the maze at the same time as Sheryl, who's also placing her third marker on the board.  I quickly check and see that Malfoy and Pete both have four tiles on the board, and are both missing tile number one.  As I turn to decide where to go next, I hear a shout from one of the passages.  I run over and am almost knocked down by Pete, running toward the tally board at full tilt.  Moments later Malfoy comes running out the same passage, but he's too late.  Pete has placed his last tile on the board, and Marcus congratulates him for winning immunity.

Malfoy drops his last tile onto the sand and leans against the nearest wall of the maze, catching his breath.  After everyone has rested briefly, we're shown the way out of the maze and slowly make our way back to camp.  Malfoy falls into step with me.

"He knocked me over."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"We were running neck and neck, and he stumbled as if he'd tripped over something.  Very clever, that Pete.  He ran into me, made me off-balance and I hit the sand.  Meanwhile, he kept on running."

We fall back behind the rest of the tribe on the trek back to camp, discussing who to vote out, since Pete is now off-limits.  We reach our decision by the time we return to our beach.  Malfoy goes to find Sheryl and discuss the vote with her, while I find Kiki and Ellen, tossing the plan idea around with them.  Both women say they agree with our reasoning for the vote.

We have a short time to eat dinner and gather our belongings and torches before we must again leave camp for Tribal Council.  Everyone has taken on a somber and quiet air as we get ready to lose another member of our team.

Marcus has changed clothes from one tasteful safari outfit to another, and as usual he hits us with pertinent questions about the past three days on the island.  He has yet to mention anything about me and Draco, but I'm sure that will be coming eventually.  So far, we've been lucky with timing and mysteriously broken cameras.

"So, tonight we'll add another member of the jury, and your group will be down to six.  Kiki, any thoughts about which way you're going to vote tonight?"

Kiki shifts uncomfortably.  "Well, I have to consider who's likely to beat me in challenges."

Marcus smiles.  "Ah, so you're planning on voting out someone with more physical strength?"

"Um … well, not necessarily.  There are also mental challenges, and … um … I have to take that into account."

She fell for his trap, practically admitting her vote, but the target of that vote doesn't seem to have caught on.

The questioning over, we make our way one by one to the voting area.  I write down the name we've agreed upon, say some pleasantries to the camera, and return to my seat.  After we've all finished, Marcus brings the container full of votes back up to where we're sitting.

He pulls the first vote from the container.  "DRACO" is written in Pete's familiar bold handwriting.

The second vote is pulled.  Marcus says the name on the slip.  I don't think I've heard him right, but he turns the slip around, and I can see a second "Draco," written in a much calmer hand.

I suddenly feel lightheaded.  There's a faint buzzing noise in my ears.  I can hear my heartbeat hammering in my head.  My planning has gone horribly wrong.  They've turned against us.  My alliance is trash.

The third name is pulled.  Beyond the buzzing noise, Marcus' voice has become distant.

"Chet."

I have to force myself to breathe.  But it doesn't feel like there's any air.

The fourth name comes out.  My own handwriting.  "Chet."

"The vote is now tied, two for Draco, two for Chet," intones Marcus.

The fifth vote is pulled, read and shown.  "Chet."

Three to two.

A sixth vote is pulled out.  Marcus regards it silently for a moment.

"The tenth person voted off the island, and the third member of our jury."  He shows the slip of paper.  "Chet, the tribe has spoken."

The buzzing fades.  Suddenly, the world is full of air, and I can easily breathe it.  My heartbeat gradually slows down.  Two votes, that's all it was.  Pete and Chet voted for Malfoy.  My alliance is still intact.  And Malfoy isn't leaving.

The remaining six of us gather our things and return through the dark forest to camp.  After tending to the fire, we all make our way into the shelter.  Malfoy takes his old spot next to me.  I offer him half of my pillow, which he silently accepts.  He puts an arm under my shoulders, and I press myself against his side, wrapping an arm around his chest and a leg around his legs, clinging to him as if I'm drowning.  I feel the familiar burning in my eyes and throat, but here, in the darkness, with him holding on to me, I can let the tears fall.

I cry quietly, wetting Malfoy's t-shirt with my tears, until I've finally released all of the pent-up emotion from my panic attack.  The sensible part of my brain warns me to wait, to find out his secrets, to put all the pieces together, to analyze why he's here and what he did with his past before making any rash decisions.  But it would appear that my heart has overruled my brain.  My emotions have already decided.

I fall asleep held securely in the arms of a man I just might be falling in love with.


	27. Day Thirty One

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-One

I'm awakened this morning by an irritating breeze in my ear.  Keeping my eyes shut, I wrap my arms around my pillow and try to ignore the breeze, but it seems to be persistent and aimed straight at my head.

I open one eye and turn my head to find the source.  Malfoy's leaning over me, blowing on me.  He sees my open eye and grins.

"Please tell me you're not always this cheerful in the morning."

"Only when I get to wake you up."  I put my pillow over my face, but he pulls it away.  "How'd you sleep?"

I realize this was, quite possibly, the best night's sleep I've had out here on the island.  "Really great, actually."

"Good.  Because we already have news of the next reward challenge."

I sit up and stretch luxuriously.  "You're kidding, right?  This seems really early."

"Apparently they felt we need practice."

Now my curiosity is piqued.  Malfoy helps me up, and we exit the shelter into the bright sunlight.  I shield my eyes with one hand and spot the rest of the group gathered in a circle.  Malfoy and I join the circle.  Pete glowers up at the both of us, but Kiki graces me with a broad smile.

"Have a good sleep, princess?"  She bats her eyes at me.

"Sure did.  Barely felt the pea.  What's the challenge?"

Ellen opens up a bag and pulls out a deck of cards, along with a tattered copy of _Poker for Dummies._  There's the usual rhyming message on the side of the bag, this time encouraging us to "gather our chips to take exotic trips on pirate ships."

"Obviously," Sheryl ruminates, "we're going to play poker.  I guess we should practice.  What should we use for chips?"

After casting around the camp, Sheryl volunteers to take the rhyming bag and fill it with pebbles from the rocky area down the beach.  As she heads out to gather the rocks, we smooth out an area of sand for a playing surface.  I pick up the poker book and riffle through the pages.

"Hey, guys."  I open the book to the section on Hold'em poker.  "I think I found a clue."  There's a skull and crossbones drawn next to the explanation of the game of Texas Hold'em.

Ellen looks pensive.  "I've never even heard of that game.  Isn't poker just the five cards?"

Oh, this is glorious.  If everyone is as clueless as Ellen, I may have this challenge in the bag.  Not only have I played poker, I've played Hold'em.  It was, in fact, the game we played every Friday night in the Gryffindor common room my sixth and seventh years.  Harry brought the game to us, and both Ron and I quickly took to it.  Other students would come in, learn the game, and quickly be relieved of their sickles and knuts.  Even after school, Ron would host monthly poker games out at the Burrow, and I would occasionally join in.  Though I haven't played in the last three years, since the war and the subsequent drifting apart of friends.

I decide to play innocent during this practice session.  "Well, aren't there other versions, like a seven-card-something?"  Ellen shrugs at me.

Sheryl returns with the so-called chips, and I paraphrase the introduction to Hold'em poker out loud.

"Each player is dealt two cards, called the 'pocket cards.'  These cards are yours and only yours.  A round of betting commences.  Then three community cards, called the 'flop,' are dealt to the center of the table.  The community cards are cards that everyone can use.  Another round of betting, followed by a fourth community card, called the 'turn.'  More betting, then a fifth and final community card, called the 'river.'  There's one final round of betting, then whoever has the best five-card poker hand out of their seven combined cards wins."

"I don't know if I can keep all that straight," murmurs Ellen.

I open the book to a different page.  "Here's a list of poker hands.  You see, it goes from high card to pair, two pair, three of a kind, straight, flush, full house, four of a kind, straight flush, royal flush.  Whoever has the best hand wins."

She looks at me, amazed.  I'm worried she's picked up on my poker expertise, but that's not the case.  "So … if you had three twos, that would be a better hand than a pair of aces?  Even though they're aces?"

Malfoy cuts in.  "It's all math and odds, Ellen.  It's harder to get three of any given card than two of any given card.  The ranking of hands is merely a chart of the difficulty of being dealt any of those combinations."

Ah, so Malfoy knows something about poker.  Not surprising, since his mysterious Best Friend Harry is quite the poker player himself.  I try to picture Malfoy and Harry playing a friendly game of cards, but I'm entirely unsuccessful.  However, it's the only way I can imagine a pureblood wizard becoming familiar with a Muggle game like poker.

Sheryl divides up the pebbles as evenly as possible, giving us each a pile of around a hundred.  Since this is just a practice round, I'm not overly concerned with playing well.  Instead, I want to get a feel for everyone's playing style.

We explain to Ellen about how after each hand the next person to the left becomes the dealer.  Malfoy suggests that, instead of trying to explain the concept of betting blinds, where the two players after the dealer are forced to bet, we just each ante in one pebble at the beginning of every hand.  Malfoy shuffles and deals two cards to everyone, and we're off.

The game runs surprisingly smooth, with only a few small questions from Ellen before she begins to get the hang of it.  She's not playing terribly well, and she smiles to herself whenever she gets good cards.  I'm not about to point this out to her, though.  It's a valuable piece of information to hold on to in the actual game.

I let myself lose some hands intentionally, just so I don't seem that good.  Most of my concentration is on the other players.  Sheryl tends to wrinkle her nose at bad cards; Kiki plays with her pile of rocks when she's excited about a hand.  Pete's harder to read, but I think I finally figure out that he holds his cards differently depending on the strength of his hand, as if to keep better hands closer to him and push lesser cards as far away as possible, even when bluffing.

Malfoy is unreadable.  His poker face is even better than Harry's was, though his playing style is very similar to Harry's.  No matter what his hand, good or bad, his expression remains placid and his manner stays cool.  He's going to be the one to beat, and it might be difficult.

After several hours of play, divided with short breaks, we take a longer break for a late lunch.  After lunch, just as we're about to resume practice, we find out it's time to go to the challenge.

Ellen's face is panic-stricken.  "I thought we'd be practicing today, and playing tomorrow!"

"Apparently not."  Pete brusquely ignores her panic and strides off toward the trees.  He gets to the edge of the jungle, turns back to us, and holds out his hands.  "Coming, people?"

Kiki bends down to tie the shoelace on her sneaker next to me.  "I swear," she mutters, "one of these days I'm going to kick that man in a place he definitely won't like."

I stifle my giggles, stand up, and walk toward the trees with the others.  On the way, Malfoy taps my shoulder.

"Nice playing.  You must have had a good teacher."

I grin at him.  "Probably no better than yours."

"No tricks?"  He has enough faith in his poker abilities that he wants no use of magic.

"You're on," I whisper back.

It's a short trek to one of the nearer challenge sites.  When we arrive, I'm amazed to see an actual tournament-style poker table set up on the beach, surrounded by six very comfortable-looking chairs and manned by an actual dealer, one of the only outsiders we've seen since the game began.

Marcus is there waiting for us, of course.  He gives us a broad, toothy grin.  "I hope you've all had enough practice, because now it's time to play for real."  He pulls out six racks of casino quality clay poker chips, all identical.  "I have two thousand dollars here for each of you, in the form of two hundred ten-dollar chips."

He hands us each a rack of chips and we take our seats at the table.  I'm seated on the dealer's right, with Ellen on the dealer's left.  Malfoy is next to Ellen on the end of the table, and Kiki is on the end next to me.  Across the table on the long side are Pete and Sheryl.  I pull my chips out of the rack and arrange them next to me in ten stacks of twenty.  Malfoy has already set up his area of the table the same way.  Pete and Kiki follow suit, but Sheryl and Ellen seem content to keep their chips in the plastic racks.

"This island was once a haven for pirates," begins Marcus.  "Cutthroat scoundrels of the seas.  Quite likely they met and drank and gambled to pass the time.  Just as you will be drinking and gambling to win today's reward.  Part of the reward is the drinking."  He pauses for a moment, then brings out a chest full of ice.  I want to bury myself in all that coldness; it's been a month since I've seen an ice cube.

He reaches down into the ice with both hands, pulling out a can of Coke in one hand and a can of Diet Coke in the other.  I've never been much of a cola drinker, but the thought of drinking one of those ice-cold soft drinks has me salivating like Pavlov's dog.

"You'll have these cold beverages to keep you refreshed while you play.  But of course, that's not the only reward.  The winner will get to enjoy an actual pirate experience."  Marcus points down the beach toward the water.  We all turn and see an amazing triple-masted schooner anchored far out in the lagoon.  We'd all been so shocked by the poker table, nobody bothered to look out into the water.

"Tomorrow, the winner will be able to spend part of the day out at sea on that ship.  You'll be taken out in time to be served lunch, and will stay until after a gourmet dinner."  He pauses, and we know there's more to come.

"In between lunch and dinner, you'll be free to swim, sunbathe, read, whatever you want.  There will be a fresh water shower available, as well as a fresh set of clothes waiting for you from the luggage you left with us."  We're all grinning like idiots, anticipating the reward.

"Oh, and one more thing," he adds almost as an afterthought.  Marcus pauses for what feels like an eternity.  "For three hours of that time between lunch and dinner, you will not be on camera."

I'm staring at him as if he just announced that Jupiter is his home planet.  I'm pretty sure everyone else is doing the same.

"There will be no cameras, no microphones, no crew members.  A three-hour reprieve from the game."  Marcus gives us the toothy grin again.  "So, are we ready to play?"

Marcus passes the cold cans of Coke around the table.  I grab a Diet Coke, crack it open and take a long drink.  Everyone else is doing the same.  The dealer shuffles the cards, and the game begins.

* * * * * * * * * *

After the first hour, only four of us are left in the game.  Ellen fell by the wayside after only twenty minutes, foolishly betting all of her remaining chips on the strength of two pair when there were four diamonds in the community cards.  She showed her hand with a smile, then her expression darkened when Pete, the only other player left in the hand, flipped over the King of diamonds from his pocket cards.  Sheryl finished playing after putting her chips behind a very decent hand, a straight from seven to Jack.  Unfortunately, I had a Queen in my hand, and beat her with a slightly higher straight.

I'm folding most hands, only playing a few strong combinations of cards, which seems to be working.  Kiki and Pete are much looser players, and it shows in their shorter stacks of chips.  Malfoy is slightly ahead of me in chips, but the two of us are the clear chip leaders in this game.

Another hour puts Kiki out of the game.  She went all-in with a pair of Aces, one on the table and one in her hand.  But Malfoy had two Jacks in his hand, matching a third on the table.  Kiki sighs as she gets up from the seat next to me.

"Nice playing, guys."  She ruffles my hair with her hand and moves over to the shade with the other two women.

Now it's down to three.  I'm on the right of the dealer.  Pete's straight across from me on the long side of the table, and Malfoy is down on the end to my left.  We play for another hour before we get a break to stretch our legs.  I count my chips.  Out of the $12,000 we started with, split evenly amongst six players, I now have a little over $5,000.  Malfoy's stack is only slightly smaller than mine, leaving Pete with roughly $2,000.

Our dealer switches out.  We actually have two, taking turns to deal for an hour and then rest for an hour.  We sit back down and begin the fourth hour of play.

The cards slide across the table.  Pete picks his up, studies them carefully, then sets them face down on the table as far away from himself as possible without actually folding the hand.  He reaches for his chips and bets $500.  I keep my face expressionless, but in my head I'm turning somersaults. From the way he set his cards down, I know he's bluffing.

The play comes to me, and I pull my cards toward me and turn up the corners, checking my hand.  The Ace of clubs and Queen of clubs.

I make a show of considering my cards.  I toy with some chips as if I'm trying to make a decision.  Then I pick up several stacks of chips and move them to the center of the table.  "I raise you to a thousand."

The dealer turns to Malfoy.  After a quick check of his cards, he tosses them to the dealer, folding his hand.  The action returns to Pete, who has to decide whether to throw away his cards, and his initial bet of $500, or to add another $500 to the pot.  A redness starts to rise in his cheeks, and from the tightness of his lips, I can tell that he's very angry.  Obviously I should have given in to his bluff like a good little girl.

I keep my face serene and expressionless.  He glances at me, pulls his cards toward him, looks at them again, then puts them back down.  He spends a few moments fiddling with his very short stack of chips.  If he calls me, he'll have a thousand dollars in the pot, roughly half of his chips.  If he folds, he will have lost a full quarter of his stack.  Or, he could push his entire two thousand into the center of the table, hoping to intimidate me into throwing away the hand.

Pete grinds his teeth together as he thinks.  Even though he hates Malfoy, I suspect it would hurt him even more to be beaten by me, simply because I'm female.  He doesn't want to back down.

He mutters, "I'm all in."  With a sweep of his hands, he knocks his chips over to the center of the table.

He barely has the words out of his mouth before I declare, "I call."  I count out another thousand in chips and toss them into the center of the table.  I turn over my cards, showing Pete my suited Ace and Queen, before standing up from the table and stretching.

He sits there quietly for a moment, then turns over his cards.  Eight of diamonds, six of spades.  Not the worst pocket cards in the world, but certainly nothing to go all-in for.  Pete stands up as well and starts pacing back and forth across the table from me.  The dealer gathers all of the chips into an untidy pile, then deals the first three community cards.

Four of clubs, eight of hearts, two of spades.

"Hell yeah!" Pete shouts.  He now has a pair of eights.  No matter how lovely my Ace and Queen, I'm no longer the odds-on favorite hand.

The dealer places the turn card on the table.  Jack of clubs.

It doesn't help Pete at all, but I'm now on a flush draw.  Between my cards and the community cards, there are four clubs.  All I need is a club, an Ace or a Queen, and the hand is mine.

Pete is now standing still, staring intently at the dealer.  I glance at Malfoy, sitting calmly at the other end of the table.  His face is completely impassive, but I can see that his hands, resting on the table, are balled into fists.  His eyes catch mine, and I can tell he's just as tense as Pete and I.

The dealer places the river card on the table.  Pete sees that it's an eight and emits a barking laugh, since it's given him three of a kind.  I sit down quietly at the table and wait for him to notice.

His laugh cuts short with a sound like a man being strangled.  The river card is the eight of clubs, giving me my flush.

Marcus announces Pete's elimination, and the dealer shoves the pile of chips toward me.  I calmly stack them up while Pete storms away, kicking at the sand and cursing a blue streak.

I move one seat to the right so that I'm straight across from Malfoy, the whole length of the table between us.  With Pete's chips, I'm ahead by about two thousand dollars.  As the dealer shuffles the cards, I look across the table at Malfoy.  He has his impassive poker face on.  Which makes it look very strange when he drops a wink.  I put on my own expressionless expression, then raise one eyebrow at him.

The next hour of play is very repetitive.  For every hand Malfoy wins, I win a similar hand.  At the end of the fourth hour of play, we're roughly equal in chips.  The rest of the team is growing restless and bored.  The shade from the trees has stretched across the beach and the sun is sinking lower in the sky, staining the horizon a bright orange.  Our dealer stands up and stretches, ready to be replaced.  Marcus saunters over to the table.

"I see this game isn't going to be over anytime soon, so I'm here to offer a deal."

Malfoy and I both look up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"You can either continue to play until one of you wins, or you can call the game a draw right now and share the reward.  You'll both get to spend the day out on the ship, and you'll both be able to enjoy the three hours off-camera."

Oh, this is better than being dealt pocket Aces.

I look at Malfoy, who looks back at me.  His eyes are twinkling with amusement.  I give him an almost imperceptible nod, letting him know I'm completely up for taking the offer.

Malfoy clears his throat.  "I'd be willing to accept that, Marcus, if Hermione is."

I look up at Marcus.  "I'll accept the offer, but only on one condition."  Marcus raises one eyebrow at me.  "One last hand, we both go all-in, so Draco and I both know who the winner is."

Marcus smiles at me.  "You have a deal."  Malfoy and I both stand up from the table as our dealer returns.  He shuffles the cards and deals two to each of us.  I pick up my cards and look at them briefly before placing them face-up on the table.  Nine and Jack of diamonds.  Malfoy likewise checks his cards, then places them on the table.  Seven of clubs, Jack of hearts.  We both have a Jack high, but I have the better side card.  All other things being equal, I will win this hand.

The dealer places the first three cards, the flop, in the center of the table.  A ten, a two and a seven.  Malfoy grins, seeing his pair.  But I have an inside straight draw – all I need is an eight.  The turn card is placed on the table.

Eight of spades.

Malfoy's face falls.  I've been given my straight, seven through Jack.  Malfoy can't win, and there are only three cards in the deck – the remaining nines – that can give him a tie.  The dealer places the final card on the table.

It's the nine of clubs.

Malfoy and I have tied on this last hand.  We both have the same straight, seven through Jack.  We stare silently across the table at each other.  He has a dreamy half-smile on his face.  The evening sunlight is striking his hair, making it shine like gold.  I've never seen him look more beautiful.

Marcus clears his throat.  "Well, I don't think anyone expected _that_ to happen."  He glances to Malfoy, then to me.  "Do you two want to play another hand?"

Malfoy shakes his head.  "I'd like to leave the results exactly how they are."  I nod my head in agreement.

"Well then."  Marcus shakes both of our hands.  "Congratulations on winning the reward.  We'll send for you shortly before lunchtime tomorrow.  You can all head back to camp now."

I'm practically floating on air for the rest of the evening.  A whole half-day with Malfoy, three hours of which will be completely without intrusion.  I can finally find out everything about him.

_Not that it matters,_ I think to myself as we wrap our arms around each other that night in our customary way before falling asleep.  I've seen enough magic in my life to know that when something magical happens, I need to pay attention.  Even if I didn't know anything about where he's been or what he's done, the Fates have spoken in the form of one hand of Hold'em poker.


	28. Day Thirty Two: Morning

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Two, morning

Kiki mumbles something.  I have to ask her to repeat, as she's facing away from me.  In fact, she's sitting on a rock and I'm giving her a haircut, thanks to the scissors in Malfoy's toiletry kit.

"I said, only one week left."  She heaves a sigh.

"You sound like it's your last week on earth."

"In a way, it's just … an ending, you know what I mean?  I'm going to miss you."

I continue clipping away at her hair.  "We'll see each other afterward."

"Promise?"

"Promise."  I finish up on the back of her head, ruffle my hand through her hair, and step aside.

Kiki runs her hands through her shortened hair.  "Thanks, it was really getting shaggy."

I can understand how a month without a haircut can really show on someone with hair almost as short as a boy's.  As for me, the new growth barely makes a change in my already long hair.  Kiki heads off to the waterfall to rinse all the itchy little hairs away, and I look for Malfoy so I can return his scissors.  After hunting around the camp, I see him out in our boat with Sheryl, lazily paddling his way back to shore.  Guess I'll have to wait a while for the man himself.

I round the corner of the shelter to see if I can find where Malfoy stores the toiletry kit, and instead happen upon Pete.  He's standing near the shelter, leaning against a palm tree, inspecting his fingernails.

"Looking for Mr. Wonderful, I presume?"

I roll my eyes at Pete.  "Give me a break."

In less than a second, he's standing right in front of me.  I barely have time to gasp in shock.

"You really … _really_ … don't want to make an enemy of me, _Hermione._"  He hisses my name and then grins too wide, almost as if he's baring his teeth for an attack, but with his teeth gritted tightly together.

I nearly back down.  But then I realize how very sick and tired I am of Pete's issues.

"Or else what, Pete?  What are you going to do?  Vote me out?  Take me down with your powerful tribe of one?"

He steps even closer, so that our bodies are practically touching.  I try to back away, but he has me trapped up against the shelter.  I can sense a full-blown panic attack coming.

"Oh, no," he whispers.  "I can do _much_ worse than that."

He turns on his heel and walks into the jungle, invisible after a moment.

I can handle this.  Really, I can.

Were we not on this island in the middle of nowhere, with cameras recording our every move, I would be able to simply hit him with a spell.  Turn him into a frog.  Give him jelly legs.  But no, not here, with a million dollars at stake.  Here, I'm nearly helpless if I don't want to be outed.  I take some deep breaths and finally manage to get my heart rate back into the normal zone.

There's a rustle to my left, and I spin around quickly.  My heart starts speeding up again.

It's just Malfoy, holding the fishing net.  His smile fades from his face upon seeing my expression.  My deep breaths and calming ritual start again.

"What happened?  You looked like you wanted to kill me.  And I know that look."

"Pete just left.  He wanted to talk to me."

Malfoy's expression immediately turns angry.  "What did he say?"

I open my mouth to speak, then close it again.  It's not that I don't trust Malfoy.  It's just that I don't want to be seen as frightened, or nervous, or concerned about Pete.  I don't want to be seen as weak in any way.  Not to the rest of the players, and definitely not to Malfoy.  Okay, so maybe I don't entirely trust Malfoy.  I've just seen him take advantage of weakness too many times.  I open my mouth to speak again.

"Um … just the same old crap.  Hates you, hates me, blah blah blah."

Malfoy narrows his eyes at me, knowing that I'm holding something back.  "You're all right, then?"

"Sure.  No problem.  Right as rain."

He studies me for a moment longer, comes to the realization that I'm not going to share anything more, and sighs.  Shaking his head, he says, "I came to find you.  It's almost time to go."

Time to go.  Finally.  I've been distracting myself all morning with water runs and haircuts and various other stupid chores to make the time pass more quickly.  But now it's almost time to leave the camp for a few hours and have a gourmet lunch and dinner aboard what I hope is a luxurious ship.  Even more important, though, is a three-hour period between lunch and dinner.  I get to spend that time alone with Malfoy, with no cameras, no microphones, no crew members or producers.

And hopefully, with plenty of answers.

* * * * * * * * * *

I finish tying my shoelaces just as I hear a buzzing noise out on the lagoon.  I stand up and look out to the ocean, shielding my eyes from the sun.  Off on the horizon is a small dot, steadily growing larger.  As the buzzing sound increases, the dot turns into a blob, which turns into a motorboat.  It swiftly cuts through the placid waters of the lagoon and heads directly for our beach.  The engines power down, and the boat gently glides up on the sand.

Marcus hops down from the bow onto our beach.  With a big television smile on his face, he strides over to where Malfoy and I stand.

"So, you two, ready to claim your reward for the day?"

Malfoy and I answer at the same time.  "Hell, yeah."

I grin up at Malfoy, and he smiles back at me.  Marcus laughs and beckons us forth, and we start toward the motorboat.

Kiki shouts from up by the shelter, "have fun, you two!"

Ellen chimes in, "don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Malfoy mutters to me, "what wouldn't she do?"

"Probably a lot," I whisper back.

We climb into the boat, both Malfoy and Marcus each taking one of my hands and pulling me up.  As one of the production team pushes the boat back off the sand, we settle in to the comfortable seats.  I wave back at the camp, and Malfoy follows my lead.  Kiki, Ellen and Sheryl wave back enthusiastically.  I can see Pete, standing sullenly near the trees.  He's certainly not waving.

The boat turns around and heads back out to sea.  Marcus and a cameraman lean in toward us, deciding this would be a good time for some interview questions.

"So, excited about the reward?"

Malfoy nods.  "It'll be nice to have a couple of good meals."

"Marcus looks at me.  "How about that time off-camera?  Any ideas what you're going to do with that?"

I give him a neutral expression, my best poker face.  "Probably just rest and relax.  I hope you have some good books on that boat."

Marcus smiles knowingly, then turns away to speak to the man driving the boat.  I suspect Marcus has some firm ideas in his head about how we'll occupy our time.  After all, we have shared a couple of close moments on camera.  I'm sure the crew is fully aware of something going on, even if some of our teammates are still blissfully ignorant.

Our small boat comes around the point of the island, and there it is.  A lovely triple-masted schooner, sails fluttering lightly and sitting calmly in the water.  As we get close, I can tell that this boat they've chartered for us is very well cared for.  The wood sides gleam in the sunshine, and the sails are crisp and white.  The motorboat pulls up alongside the schooner, next to a rope ladder.

"Ladies first."  Malfoy nudges me with his elbow.  I get up and walk over to the side of the boat, grabbing onto the ladder.  Slowly, I haul myself up.  Climbing a rope ladder is not as easy as I always thought it would be.  As I near the top, I feel a tugging from below.  I look down to see Malfoy starting the climb, and having no easier a time of climbing the rickety ladder.  I throw a leg over the side of the ship and climb in, helped by a pair of crewmen.  When Malfoy reaches the top of the ladder, the crewmen likewise help pull him over the edge and settle him on the deck.

We look over the edge to see if Marcus is coming up.  He waves from the bow of the motorboat and shouts, "you guys have fun!  I'll come back for you later!"  With a nod to the driver, Marcus settles down into his seat and the motorboat speeds away.

One of the ship's crewmen steps forth.  "If you'll follow me, lunch is ready."

He leads us around the side of the boat, back toward the stern.  As we come around the edge of the cabin area, we're met with a lovely sight.  A little table and two chairs in the middle of a wide expanse of deck, as if we were in a French bistro instead of on a schooner anchored off the coast of Unknown Island.  The table is spread with a crisp checkered tablecloth, and on the table, a bottle of wine among the glasses, plates and silverware.

The crewman leads us to the table.  He pulls out my chair for me, while a second crewman pulls out Malfoy's.  We settle in and drape our napkins across our laps.  As we wait for the food to arrive, I look around at the people assembled.  Two cameramen, one man who I recognize as one of the "sound guys," our two crewmen-slash-waiters.  But in a while, they'll all be leaving.  I wonder how we'll be left alone.  Will they leave the ship entirely?  Or will they all assemble in some hidden part of the ship and wait there?

One of the crewmen comes out of the cabin area with a pair of green salads.  He places one in front of each of us.  I reach for my fork, only to discover an assortment of four forks next to my plate.  My hand hovers over them for a moment.  I'm not much of one for fancy restaurants, and in the Granger house, we only have one fork for dinner.

Malfoy sees my hesitation.  "Start on the outside," he grins.  "Work your way toward the plate."  He picks up his outermost fork and stabs some leaves of lettuce, and I quickly follow suit.

As we munch on the salad, which is covered with a tart and tangy vinaigrette, one of our servers pours us each a tall glass of red wine and an even larger glass of ice water.  I take a sip of the wine and discover that it's delicious.

Malfoy takes a sip of his wine.  He smiles up at the man who just poured the glass.  "Château Larmonde, if I'm not mistaken.  Perhaps," he thinks for a moment, "1989?"

The crewman studies the bottle for a moment.  "You're absolutely right, sir!"

The crewman seems amazed, and so am I.  "So, Draco.  You know about the wine, you know about multiple forks.  Something of an upper crust fellow, are you?"  I know he was raised rich, but I never knew quite _how_ rich.

"You have no idea."  He smiles at me.  "But I was never rich; only my father.  And unfortunately, he got in with the wrong crowd and managed to lose it all."  His smile tightens when mentioning his father.  I remember Lucius Malfoy from before the war, an intimidating figure who always managed to make me feel like something lower than dirt.  Then again, that's how Malfoy treated me much of the time as well.

"That is a shame.  It would be hard to have so much then lose it all."

"Not that it matters, in that he's dead now."  Malfoy stabs into the last of his salad a little harder than normal.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be.  He wasn't a very nice man."  He studies his plate for a moment, then looks back up at me.  When his eyes meet mine, the expression softens considerably.  "Let's not talk about him.  Tell me something about yourself.  What do you do for a living?"

"I work in a bank.  Nothing glamorous, just some administrative work."

He winks at me.  "And here I thought bankers were all surly little goblins."

"Well, sometimes it seems like my boss is, that's for sure."  I suddenly realize that the poor man might someday watch this footage on television, and I seek out one of the cameras.  "Sorry, Larry."  I grin to the camera.  "My brain's addled by the sun.  You're a great boss."

Malfoy starts laughing so hard that he snorts.

Our salad plates are taken away, replaced by a plate filled with heaven.  A large, tender-looking steak, mashed potatoes with lots of delicious lumps, and several kinds of vegetables.  A basket containing warm sourdough rolls and butter is placed between us.

As we slowly stuff ourselves with food, we talk about lighter things.  Malfoy tells me that he has a sister, Delia, three years older.  "Of course, when I was born, I became the golden child.  The magical son who will carry on his father's name.  Delia and I aren't very close; I believe there's quite a bit of resentment there."  He grins and takes another drink of wine.  "She lives in California, married with two kids."  In turn, I tell Malfoy about my parents.

We start discussing school in the most general of terms, mindful of the cameras.  As the main course turns into dessert, I find myself describing to Malfoy how it felt to be looked down on for being different.  "I didn't grow up like a lot of them did, and they really let me know.  Even with my friends, I was frequently an outsider.  But some of the others ... well, many of the nicknames were simply cruel." 

Malfoy has the courtesy to look embarrassed.  Then he tells me about his own schooling, and how horrible it was to have to spend time with people he didn't like, just because they were the kids of his father's friends.  "Really, we had nothing in common.  Except that our parents were members of the same exclusive club.  And all they thought about was … well, they really didn't think about anything.  They were too rich to have to think.  Seems like such a waste."

We finish our meals and sit back in our chairs, a companionable silence between us.  Despite all of our differences, we actually had similar situations back at Hogwarts; feelings of loneliness, feelings of separation.  Feeling like you don't belong.

"Hermione," he says, breaking me from my reverie.

"What?"

He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair.  "I may say indeed, thou art Hermione.  Or rather, thou art she in thy not chiding, for she was as tender as infancy and grace."

I'll be dipped.  Malfoy knows some Shakespeare.

"Whilst I remember her and her virtues, I cannot forget my blemishes in them, and so still think of the wrong I did myself; which was so much."  He opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me.

My jaw drops.  Malfoy has managed to take a line from _The Winter's Tale,_ referring to the very character named Hermione, and make it fit our relationship perfectly.

"Strange, isn't it?  My favorite of Shakespeare's plays, and it happens to contain your name."  His smile twitches in amusement.

Did he read that play just because of my name?  Hell, did he memorize passages of that play because of my name?

The last remains of our lunch are cleared away, and one of the crewmen escorts us on a tour around the ship.  The cabins are luxuriously appointed; Malfoy and I are each assigned our own set of rooms.  We each have a fresh change of clothes laid out on our beds, well-stocked bathrooms with fluffy white towels, and small refrigerators filled with cans of cola and snacks.

"I don't think I'll have enough room for dinner in a few hours, let alone a snack," I moan while rubbing my stomach.

The crewman smiles at me.  "Nevertheless, miss, we have anything here you may desire."

I glance at Malfoy.  Yes, it's true.  They have everything here I desire.

With a glance at his watch, the crewman takes his leave.  "You have free roam of the ship.  The time is now 1:15pm.  We'll be leaving at two."  He strides up the hallway between the cabins and out the door at the end.  Malfoy and I look at each other, then both speak.

"Well, I guess…"

"Why don't you…"

We stop and smile.  Malfoy waves his hand at me to let me go first.  "I was going to say, I guess I'm going to shower and get into those fresh clothes."

"I was going to suggest the same thing."  He hesitates in the hall for a moment, then glances past me into my cabin.  "Hey, I wonder if your shower has hotter water than mine."

I push him toward his own door.  "Nice try, Romeo.  See you in 45 minutes."

* * * * * * * * * *

After a hot shower, complete with lathering, rinsing and repeating with an amazing herbal shampoo, I feel nearly human again.  I bring my bikini top into the shower with me and surreptitiously whisper a cleaning spell on it. After toweling myself off and hanging my wand/bikini top over the top of the shower stall to dry, I move into the bedroom of the cabin and take stock of my clothes.  Besides clean underwear, they've left me my comfy khaki pants, a stretchy tank top and a button-front sleeveless blouse.  They've even been kind enough to leave me a fresh pair of socks.

I forego footwear for the time being, padding around on the plush carpeting in my bare feet.  Compared to the sand of our beach, it's like walking on a cloud.  Dressed, I flop back onto the bed to see how comfortable it is.

Obviously too comfortable.  I'm jerked out of a light sleep by a knocking on my cabin door.  I rub my eyes and pad across the cabin.  Opening the door, I find one of the crewmen waiting outside.

"It's two o'clock now, miss.  We'll be going.  You're welcome to come up on deck and watch us leave."

I follow him to the end of the hallway and out onto the deck of the ship.  Malfoy is already there, looking incredible in khaki shorts and an unbuttoned white shirt.  Like me, he's barefoot.  His skin is fairly glowing, freshly cleaned and golden tan.  His blond hair almost sparkles in the sunlight, it's so shiny.  The sides of his shirt are flapping gently in the breeze, making shadows play across his muscular bared chest.

Nobody can deny it, the man is absolutely gorgeous.

Meanwhile, Malfoy is looking at me like I'm a painting in the Louvre.  Which I don't get, since my still-damp hair is flying every which way in the breeze.  Not to mention the fact that I am, after all, just me.  He comes over and takes my hand.  We stroll over to the side of the ship, where the two crewmen are climbing down the familiar rope ladder into another motorboat.  Our two cameramen are already down there, as is our sound guy.

One crewman shouts up, "we'll be back at five o'clock.  There are clocks in all of the cabins.  The pilothouse is locked, but the rest of the ship is all yours.  Have a good time!"

The cameramen keep their lenses on us as the motorboat starts up and pulls away.  Malfoy and I both automatically wave at them.

We step back toward the middle of the ship, so we can no longer see the receding boat.  I turn to Malfoy, opening my mouth to speak.  He's already looking at me.  He reaches one hand up, wraps it around the back of my neck, and gently pulls my head to his.  The kiss is at the same time tender and passionate, and it leaves me feeling a little weak in the knees.  I hold onto his arm with one hand, his waist with the other.  His free hand is making its way around my back, pulling me closer to him.

Much as I'm enjoying this, I pull away.  "Draco, we should check to see if we're actually, truly alone on this ship."

He nods.  "Would you like the searching honors?"  He runs his fingers along my cheek.

I pull myself away from him and return to my cabin.  Taking my bikini top down from the shower stall, I whisper a drying spell on it and cast a charm searching for any Muggle electronic recording devices.  My cabin is clean.  I spread the range of my spell, searching for any electrics of any kind on the ship.  I sense the radio turned on up in the pilothouse and little else.  Then I change the spell over to one searching for humans.  The only one I can find is Malfoy, out on the deck.

I slip out of my shirt and tank top, put my wand bikini back on, and redress.  I hurry back out to the deck, where I find Malfoy seated at the little bistro table where we ate lunch.

"All clear.  Nobody aboard but us, and no cameras to be found."

Malfoy looks up at me silently.  In my absence, he's managed to either summon or create a pen and paper, and has written three lines.  He holds the sheet out to me.

"There's so much to explain, but we should probably start with this."

I take the page from him and give him a puzzled look.  He nods toward the paper, so I read the three lines.

_I hope this letter finds you well.  
There is much to explain.  Given time, all will be told.  
I look forward to seeing the end._

That handwriting.  And that last line.  Malfoy said it to me one day during the game.  And he said it to me in my dream.  But it took seeing it written in his handwriting for me to realize the significance.

I look up at him in amazement.  "By the Gods, Draco ... it was you?"


	29. Day Thirty Two: Reward

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Two: Reward

_October 30, The Previous Year_

I unlocked my office door at the usual time, a few minutes before nine o'clock. The first half-hour of my day was spent, as usual, refreshing the wards on my files and making sure all of my paperwork was secure.

It was around 10:30 in the morning when the owl tapped at my window. A rather nondescript barn owl, the kind I usually saw. Certainly nobody's specific messenger; that would be too easily traced. I opened my window, allowing in both the owl and the frigid autumn air. After an exchange of parchment for owl treats, the bird flew away and I was left with a piece of paper in my hands and a residual coolness in my office.

Carefully, I opened the parchment on my desk. To all outward appearances, it was a blank sheet of paper. I reached for my quill, dipping it into a special tiny inkpot on my desk. I signed my name at the bottom of the page with the reddish-brown ink. As I finished, words began to appear on the paper where none had been visible before. I knew the message was from SilverHawk, and I knew that, for the present moment, he was still alive.

It was Severus Snape, Hogwarts' Potion Master and all-around slimy git, who had come up with the idea of the blood ink. Take the blood of an agent in the field, mix with the blood of an Intelligence operative at the Ministry, add a multitude of expensive ingredients and secrecy, and there you have it. Blood ink, readable only by the two blood donors. We were fairly certain that Voldemort didn't know about the blood ink, but if he should ever find out and kill one of our field agents, he still wouldn't be able to read any of our documents; if one of the two blood donors were killed, the ink would never become visible. Leave it to Snape to add in extra safeguards.

Several other Intelligence operatives had pots of blood ink on their desks. Some more than one pot. But I only had the one, connecting me with field operative SilverHawk. I had no idea who he was, other than the fact that he was male, and apparently rather high in ranking in Voldemort's organization. Oh, and I also knew that he gave great, valuable and truthful information.

I took out another piece of parchment for my own notes, then started reading SilverHawk's letter.

_Dearest Isabella,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. _

_Mostly the weather here is very cold, but I've heard that we may see some sunshine tomorrow. Maybe there will be heavy fog at some point._

_Actually, I've been meaning to get in touch with our mutual friend, Ray. Needless to say, I haven't seen him since late May. On the off chance that you see him, let him know he could come see me soon, as I still owe him thirty dollars._

_Ray truly is a good friend, and I know he can stand up for me._

_I miss you, my sweet Isabella. This war grows tiresome. I look forward to seeing the end._

_Love, S.H._

The coded message began and ended like all of his missives, a sentence on each end to let me know it wasn't written under any coercion or outside influence. But the body of the letter … oh my Gods. Something huge was about to go down.

I grabbed my quill and a pot of regular ink, and began taking notes on my own parchment. Isabella was my code name, taken from my Italian great-grandmother. Anyone on the Dark side caught writing to someone named "Hermione" would surely be suspected as a traitor. Besides which, not giving my true identity to my contact added another layer of protection between the two of us. The references to the weather meant that something was going to happen the next day where Voldemort could possibly be destroyed, thus the resulting "sunshine." The opportunity would come when Voldemort's powers were lowered or otherwise occupied, the "heavy fog."

Our mutual friend Ray was none other than Harry Potter. The reference to "late May" told me that whatever was going to happen would happen at 5:00pm, since May is the 5th month and the use of "late" meant it would be in the evening instead of in the morning.

So, tomorrow at five in the evening, Voldemort would be in a vulnerable position. And he would likely be that way for thirty minutes, as referenced by the "thirty dollars" in the letter. I didn't understand what SilverHawk meant by "I know he can stand up for me," so I just copied it onto my notes in case it made sense to Harry. And the location of the event was clearly spelled out by the first letters of every sentence: MMANOR, or Malfoy Manor.

I wondered briefly why I hadn't heard anything about Draco Malfoy during the long two years of the war. Certainly Lucius' name came up frequently, as he was practically Voldemort's right-hand man. Perhaps Lucius had sent the precious younger Malfoy away, so that he wouldn't dirty his delicate hands in the war. I decided to ask Harry about it.

I finished up my notes, locked away the message from SilverHawk and my blood ink, and went to find Harry. The Aurors' offices were in a different section of the Ministry, little more than cubbyholes in a large work room. Not that it mattered, since most of them spent their time out in the field, not stuck behind a desk. Upon reaching their area and passing security clearance at the door, I asked around and was finally directed to Harry and Ron playing a game of chess in one dark, musty corner.

"Harry, I have a message for you." Both men glanced up from their game. Harry must have seen the intensity in my eyes, because he immediately stood up and ushered me into an office nearby. He closed the door behind us and cast several complex wards and silencing charms.

I pulled out my notes. "SilverHawk wrote in. There's something going on at Malfoy Manor tomorrow, five in the evening. He suspects that Voldemort will be preoccupied for thirty minutes. He seems to think this is the big opportunity we've been waiting for."

Harry pondered this for a moment, then asked, "was there anything else in his message you didn't understand? A line that didn't appear to be in code?"

I was stunned. I fumbled with my notes, then read the line, "Ray truly is a good friend, and I know he can stand up for me."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I need to see the Minister immediately. This could be it."

Before he could go, I grabbed his sleeve. "Does this have anything to do with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry's expression flashed quickly, showing me a brief glimpse of something that could have been shock or concern, before becoming unreadable. "Why do you ask that?"

"Well, because whatever this is, it's happening at Malfoy Manor. And I haven't heard anything about Draco Malfoy since the war began. It's almost as if he's become invisible."

"Ah." Was that relief on Harry's face? "It could be anything, really. Draco Malfoy or not. Remember, Lucius Malfoy has hosted many Death Eater events out at Malfoy Manor. Look, I really need to see the Minister." Harry turned to go, and I stopped him once again.

"Harry, if this is it … well, good luck."

He hugged me tightly, unwarded the office and left.

The next day was Halloween. And I knew that something was going to happen at Malfoy Manor that evening. I could barely concentrate on my work that day, knowing that at any moment all available staff could be called in to help. But the call never came. I went to bed early on Halloween night, wondering what had happened, or what was still happening, out at the Manor.

I got to work earlier than usual on the first of November. Ron Weasley was sitting on the floor outside my office door, looking exhausted. He told me the parts of the story that he knew: Harry had gone out to Malfoy Manor alone a little before five. A backup team of Aurors was to go in at five-thirty, to offer any assistance necessary. Ron was a part of that team. What they found, instead of a battle in progress, was the remains of a battle completed. Malfoy Manor looked as if it had been hit with a bomb; crumbled walls, fires still burning within. Voldemort's dead body, along with those of Lucius Malfoy and at least a half-dozen other Death Eaters, littered the ground. Ron ran to Harry, lying on the ground, still alive and breathing but unconscious. He picked up Harry's limp body and rushed to St. Mungo's.

Harry stayed in that coma for almost two weeks. When he finally came out of it, any sign of the cheerful boy I'd grown up with was gone. He wouldn't speak about what had happened at all with me. And so I'd always been left to wonder what had happened on that fateful Halloween night out at Malfoy Manor.

So many of my memories flash through my mind as I stare dumbfounded at Malfoy.

"You are … I mean, you were …"

"SilverHawk. Yes."

"I need to sit down." Malfoy guides me away from the small metal bistro chairs and helps me into a comfortable deck chaise.

"All right. Where to start." Malfoy paces in front of me for a moment, then pulls another chaise next to mine and sits on the side of it. He leans forward toward me.

"I was eleven years old when I started at Hogwarts. Up until that point, I'd led a very sheltered existence. The only people we socialized with were other pureblood families. It was constantly reinforced to all of us that we were the best, the brightest, the finest that the wizarding world had to offer. I believed it, because it was all we were ever told.

"But being a Malfoy was much more than that. Malfoys were, according to my father, the best of the best. The absolute pinnacle of purebloods. And being so fine, so far above the rest of humankind, meant that Malfoys could not stoop to lower themselves to be like the rest of the rabble. Emotions weren't allowed. Compassion, sympathy, caring … all of them taboo. And when I made a mistake of any kind, or dared to show an emotion, or had the unmitigated gall to lose at a game or display any inferiority of any kind…" Malfoy stops for a moment and looks quietly at his hands, "the punishments were swift and severe."

Malfoy takes a deep breath. "I would probably have grown up to be just like my father. Cold and compassionless. Really, the man was dead inside. But he was ruthless in his pursuit for power, and his consideration of others to be lower forms of life helped him immensely. But one thing, just one thing at Hogwarts, helped me see how wrong he was."

Malfoy takes my hand in his and looks me straight in the eyes. "That one thing, Hermione, was you."

He squeezes my hand. "Oh, at first, I hated you. After all, hating people like you was what I'd been raised to do. You weren't just a lesser witch; you were a Muggleborn witch. To my father, the so-called 'Mudblood' was even worse than a Muggle. At least Muggles lived their Muggle lives and stayed out of the wizarding world. But a Muggleborn witch or wizard, that was like a dirty Muggle trying to horn in on the wizarding world, which by all rights should have belonged solely to pureblooded wizards. I was trained from birth to hate everything that you are.

"And yet, you fascinated me. I didn't understand how it was possible that a Muggleborn witch could be first in our class. That place should have belonged to a pureblood, a Slytherin. After all, we were the best of the best, were we not? But still, there you were, earning the top marks in class after class, even though you hadn't been raised in the wizarding world.

"So I decided that it would be all right for you to be so smart, if you were at least cold and composed. Because true intellect only shines through when emotions aren't allowed to get in the way, according to the great Lucius Malfoy. But no, you had to blow that theory for me as well. You laughed, you cried, you were sympathetic and caring with your friends. And the anger that you showed to those that dared hurt the ones you cared about absolutely amazed me. I'd never had anyone stand up for me the way you stood up for Ron and Harry. I seriously doubt anyone in Slytherin would have even raised their wand to help me, unless there were money or prestige involved somehow.

"I pondered the mystery of Hermione Granger for years. I began to form my own ideas of what made a good witch or wizard, and none of them had to do with parentage or upbringing. Of course, I had to remain aloof and cold on the outside. And I had to mock you and your friends when other Slytherins were around. Any weakness of any kind would immediately get back to my father. I was already being punished enough for letting you do better than me in every class except for Potions, I certainly didn't need my father finding out that I wanted to befriend a Muggleborn.

"Things were also starting up again with Voldemort, and that made me even more angry on the inside. It hurt me every time I hurt you. But I knew it would kill me if anything happened to you. And I knew that the first people the Death Eaters would go after once Voldemort came back to power would be Muggleborn and half-breed witches and wizards. I couldn't let that happen. Because by then, I'd fallen in love with you.

"And that was the worst thing of all. Not loving you; that was easy. You were so beautiful on the inside, smart, funny, talented, and so full of life. When I saw you at the Yule Ball our fourth year, I was amazed. The outer you had finally caught up with the inner you, and you were so beautiful I could barely stand to look at you. No, the worst thing was that I now had to make a huge choice. I could take the easy road, follow in my father's footsteps, be a good little Death Eater and help eradicate mudbloods. Unfortunately, that path would have taken away the one thing that meant anything to me. You.

"So, I took the harder path. I went to Dumbledore at the end of our fourth year and told him everything. How much I loathed my family and friends, how alone I felt, and how miserable that should have made me. Except that there was no way I could be miserable as long as Hermione Granger was in my world.

"Dumbledore helped me as much as he could when it came to dealing with my family and so-called friends, and he was always there for me when I needed him. When Voldemort started gathering his forces, I offered to be a spy against the Dark side. I helped Dumbledore in his fight, until the Ministry finally joined in. Then Dumbledore vouched for agent SilverHawk.

"Once Snape developed the blood ink, I realized it was my chance to have contact with you. I'd been working with Harry for some time, meeting secretly and passing information. It took him quite some time to learn to trust me, but I finally told him much the same story I'm telling you. How I used to think and feel, and how you changed me. Harry agreed to help set you up as my blood ink contact. Finally, I could write to you, address my letters lovingly, and as long as the blood ink was still visible when I used it, I knew that you were safe and alive.

"From then on, you know a lot of the story. You were on the receiving end of my messages, so you know the kind of things I was up to. Fortunately, I didn't have to take the dark mark yet. My father kept me busy training in the dark arts, because I was to become Voldemort's new right-hand man eventually. I wasn't sent along on raids or attacks, because at the time I was too valuable. In fact, it was going to be at the ceremony that Halloween when I would have received my mark and taken my place at Voldemort's side."

Malfoy pauses in his story. He stares down at his hands and sighs deeply. I feel a coolness on my face, reach up, and find the wet tracks of tears on my cheeks.

My voice is barely a whisper. "What happened that night?"

He sighs again. "I know Harry never told you, because it would have given my identity away to you. And he always wanted me to be the one to tell you about SilverHawk." He rubs the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking weary. He's been talking for almost an hour, but the story's almost done.

"I put a line in my last message that was specifically for Harry. The line about standing up for me. It let him know what the ceremony would entail.

"Besides being given the mark and inducted into the Death Eaters, it was to be my wedding."

I feel my breath catch in my throat. "So did you … I mean, are you … married?"

"Fortunately, no. The ceremony was never completed." Malfoy stands up to stretch, which makes me realize how stiff and cramped I'm feeling in my little chaise. I hold out my hand to him, and he helps me up so that I can stretch my muscles as well. We slowly stroll over to the edge of the ship and lean on the rail, staring across the sea to the island in the distance.

"Voldemort spent most of the day making preparations instead of resting. He knew the combination of ceremonies would take a lot of magic, but fortunately he thought he was invincible. If he'd actually been sensible and taken it easy before the ceremonies, Harry might not have been able to kill him. So in a way, Voldemort had a hand in his own death.

"There were a lot of wards to cast, and a lot of protection spells. Only those who had been invited would be allowed entry onto the grounds. Knowing that the ceremonies were coming, I'd sent Harry an open-ended invitation to my wedding, which allowed him past that particular spell even though the date of the event wasn't even known at that time.

"And so, when five o'clock came around, we began the ceremonies." Malfoy begins to count on his fingers. "There was going to be the dark marking of both of us, as well as the marriage, a fertility rite to ensure immediate conception of a male heir, a loyalty spell, a bonding spell, and a very powerful infusion of magic."

I interrupt, "who was the bride?"

Malfoy grimaces. "Pansy, of course. Not just pureblood, but one hundred percent behind the dark cause. Pretty much what I should have become.

"So. There we are in the ballroom at the Manor, a cozy grouping of me and Pansy and Voldemort, surrounded by two dozen of my father's closest Death Eater friends. And all the while as I'm reciting lines, I'm praying that Harry is on his way.

"If Voldemort had suspected either of our loyalty, he would have done the spells in a different order. But since we were both such good little followers, I think he decided to get the hardest ones out of the way first. Another way that he contributed to his own undoing, since the harder spells made him weaker. Anyway, he started out with the fertility ritual, making sure that Pansy would immediately conceive a son, guaranteeing Voldemort's next heir. Then he started the ritual to infuse both of us with more magic, making us more powerful.

"He really should have marked us first. Or done one of the loyalty or bonding spells. It was the luckiest thing possible, he chose to do the spells that would not only fatigue him the most, but they would give me more power. As he recited the spells, I felt like I was walking on air. There was a buzzing in my head, and I felt stronger and more aware than I ever had before.

"Voldemort said the final words, and I could see that he was very tired. He'd just infused Pansy and me with a large portion of his magic, and it would take some time to regenerate. So there I am, standing with Pansy, each of us with our hand on the other's wand, waiting for the wedding part of the ceremony. And the lights all went out.

"I heard Pansy gasp in surprise. I held my own wand firmly and pulled it out of Pansy's hand, and at the same time pulled her own wand away from her. I could hear Harry's voice as he cast several spells in quick succession. I shouted my own, and between us we locked all of the doors to the ballroom and set a field around the Manor so that nobody could apparate or disapparate.

"It was pitch black in the ballroom, since all of the heavy curtains had been drawn over the windows. But with my newly improved powers, I could still see everything in a faint greenish glow. I knew that there was one other person currently as powerful as me in the room, so I had to take care of her first."

Malfoy leans down, resting his elbows on the rail of the ship, and buries his face in his hands with a deep sigh. I step closer and rub my hand on his back, trying to comfort him. I don't think he's had to talk about these events much, and it's only been a little over a year since it all happened.

His voice is muffled a bit behind his hands. "I didn't want to kill her, I swear. Sure, she was a gung-ho member of the dark side, but I'd grown up with her. She was one of the few kids I was allowed to play with when I was little. And while I didn't necessarily like what she grew up to become, I always had hope for her. I told her to run, to get away. Instead, she lunged for my hand that was holding her wand. I tried to stun her. But it didn't work, because of the magic infusion. So I … I had to kill her. With Avada.

"Harry was blasting away at everyone he could. He took quite a few of the Death Eaters down before I could join him. He killed my father, along with several others. It wasn't until afterward, when I visited him in the hospital, that I got a chance to thank him for that. Lucius needed to be killed, and I don't think I could have been the one to do it.

"So finally, it was down to Harry and Voldemort. They were both out on the lawn by then; the Manor was in sorry shape, half blown-away and on fire. I'd never been more happy to see that damned house than when it was destroyed. They were in the middle of a duel, with some kind of force shield around them; I tried to curse Voldemort, and it just bounced away harmlessly. I couldn't help; all I could do was watch and pray.

"They had their wands pointed at each other, and it was as if the wands were connected by this beam of golden light. And slowly, the light turned from gold to red. Harry stood up straighter, and Voldemort looked even weaker. The light was so bright, it was almost blinding. And then there was a huge flash of red light. I felt all of that extra power suddenly drain out of me. I turned my head away, and when I turned back, there was nothing but darkness and silence. Harry and Voldemort were both lying on the ground. I ran over to Harry first, to make sure he was alive. His pulse was strong and his breathing was clear; he was just knocked unconscious. Then I checked on Voldemort.

"There didn't seem to be any signs of life to him. Much as I loathed the idea of touching him, I checked for a pulse and for breathing, but didn't find either. He looked as if he'd aged a hundred years in the last few minutes; his formerly healthy body was shriveled and bent.

"Just to be safe … I hit him with three more Avada curses. Nothing. He was really and truly dead. I checked the time, which was about a minute shy of 5:30. I knew that the rest of the Aurors would be coming, and if they found me there, they might curse first and ask questions later. So I ran. I felt awful leaving Harry behind, unconscious, but I knew that Weasley and the others would be there shortly to take care of him. The rest of the story, I'm sure you already know."

He's silent for a few moments, leaning against the rail. It's odd to hear such a dark, awful story while standing on a beautiful ship in the middle of a tropical sea. Finally he sniffs and rubs his eyes. He squints and blinks up at the sun, then out at the island in the distance, but he won't look at me. Finally, I break the silence.

"You're probably thirsty after all that. Come on, let's see what's in the little icebox." I grab his hand and intertwine my fingers with his, pulling him down to the cabins. He hesitates for a moment, looking at our joined hands, then follows with his eyes downcast. I lead him down to my cabin, push him down so he's sitting on the edge of the bed, and rummage through the tiny refrigerator for two cans of cola. I hand him one, but instead of opening it, he rolls it around in his hands and stares at it.

"Draco," I begin. He interrupts me.

"I … look, I didn't tell you all that for your pity. I just wanted you to finally know the truth. I'd rather you were just open about hating me."

Hating him? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Besides the fact that I'm a cold-blooded murderer who left his best friend unconscious on the battlefield, how about the fact that I'm a terrible coward. I made your life hell in school for no good reason, other than to cover my own ass. I hurt you so many times, just so I wouldn't get hurt myself." He sighs. "Except that it hurt me anyway."

I take his can of cola out of his hands and set it on top of the fridge next to mine. He continues sitting there, head down, staring at his hands.

"You know, what you call murderer, most would call war hero. And I'd hardly call turning spy against the most powerful dark wizard this century an act of cowardice. And you know what, Malfoy? Every time you insulted me, every time you said something hateful to me back in school, it made me stronger."

He snorts in disbelief and stands up. "I should just go. You don't need to try and make me feel better."

And now, I'm angry.

I step in front of him, but he still won't make eye contact with me. He moves to the left, as if to go around me and leave, and I shove him backwards so he falls onto the bed. I jump on top of him, straddling his hips with my knees, my arms crossed and pressed down onto his chest. He finally looks up at me in surprise.

"Listen up and listen good, Ferret Boy." I poke him in the chest. "Your little self-pity party needs to end, _now._ Without your help, untold thousands would have died, maybe including me. And if you feel bad at all about being a jerk to me, good. You _were_ a jerk to me. But when I first got to Hogwarts, I was a shy, quiet girl with her nose buried in a book. If it hadn't been for you, if I hadn't felt the need to prove myself, I wouldn't be the person I am today. You," I poke him, "made me strong. You," another poke, "made me do the best work I could do. And if it weren't for you, I would definitely not be the kind of girl who would hold a guy down and tell him what a dumbass he's being. So learn to live with it, Dr. Frankenstein. You made this monster, now you have to deal with me."

Malfoy looks up at me with astonishment in his eyes, his mouth slightly open. Before he can say anything, I lean down and kiss him.

His arms are immediately in motion, one hand behind my head pulling me deeper into the kiss, the other trailing down my back. I run my hands down his chest, pushing aside the edges of his loose white shirt. He pulls his hands away from me and uses them to push himself up into a sitting position, taking me with him. I'm straddling his lap, on my knees. He pushes my hair behind me and starts kissing my neck, while slowly unbuttoning my shirt.

I open my eyes long enough to check the clock on the wall. We still have over an hour and a half before anyone comes back to the ship. I close my eyes again and relax into his caresses.

He manages to remove my shirt and tank top, while I pull his own shirt off. He snorts.

"I don't think this is technically the way this game is supposed to be played."

I look into his eyes, glistening with emotion. I know mine are the same. "Is this part of the game?"

He holds my head between his hands, looking at me intently. "I think this particular game is over."

I stand up and step away, eliciting a gasp from Malfoy. I move around the edge of the bed, hop on and lie down, reveling in the softness of the pillows under my head. He stands up from the foot of the bed and comes around the side.

"Well then, Malfoy, one of us should be declared the winner."

He climbs onto the bed next to me, pressing his body against mine. He lifts himself up on his elbow, so his face is looming over mine with a sly smile. His voice is low and husky. "And who do you think is the winner?"

I reach up and bury my fingers in his silky hair. "I'll let you have this one." He looks at me in surprise, amazed that I would give him the win.

I pull his head down to mine. "Now come and collect your prize."


	30. Day Thirty Two: Evening

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Two: Evening

We've managed to make it back up on deck, each fully dressed and casually reading a book, with five whole minutes to spare before the crew returns.  I'm tired from the first two times on the bed, and tired and clean from the third time in the shower.  But it's an incredibly pleasant, relaxed kind of tired.

I look over at Malfoy to find him leaning back in his deck chair, book open on his chest, head back and eyes closed.  I giggle, which causes him to lazily open one eye.

"Something?"

"Just marveling at my crazy brain.  Even after everything that's happened today, I still call you 'Malfoy' in my head."

Malfoy closes his eye again and leans his head back.  "Better than 'Ferret Boy,' I suppose.  Though I would prefer something along the lines of 'That Amazing Stud'."

I laugh, but it trails off as I realize there's still one question left unanswered.

"Draco, why did you sign up for this game?  What will you do with the money if you win?"

He sits up straight in his chair and sets the book on the deck next to him.  "I'm going to help.  In any way I can, and anyone I can.  Orphanages for the children of Voldemort's victims.  Help for those who lost their jobs, their families.  Help rebuilding Hogwarts."  He smiles sheepishly.  "Though it's all for selfish reasons, of course.  I mainly want to make the name Malfoy something other than a dirty word."

"But … you helped kill Voldemort.  Why would your name be a dirty word?"

"The people who know about my part that Halloween think about me the way we used to think about Snape.  Always wondering which side I was truly on.  And the people who don't know about what happened that night still think I'm a dirty Death Eater.  I never really went public with my participation.  I thought Harry deserved all the credit, and I wanted to tell you everything about SilverHawk before you found out from someone else."

I lean over and gently kiss him.  "Well, just so you know, the name Malfoy isn't a dirty word to me."  I grin wickedly.  "Though thinking about the name does make several other dirty words come to mind."

He kisses me hard, then returns to his leaned-back, eyes-closed position in his chair.  I hear a faint buzzing and stand up, scanning the horizon.  A tiny speedboat is working its way from the island toward us.  I settle back in with my book and wait for them to arrive.

Five minutes later, the boat seems abnormally full.  Two cameramen, a sound man, the crewmen, and Marcus.  The crewmen head below to begin cooking dinner, and Marcus comes over to where Malfoy and I are sitting.

"So, did you two enjoy your reward?"

Malfoy once again opens an eye lazily.  "It was very relaxing, Marcus."

"You two weren't bored?  You found something interesting to do?"

I set my book aside.  "There are some very good books on this boat."

Marcus grins.  "So are you going to tell us anything?"

Malfoy stands and stretches.  "What would you like to hear?  We spend the last three hours discussing game strategy.  We threw a huge party here on the boat for a hundred of our closest friends.  We played a game of Monopoly, and Hermione steals from the bank.  We had a food fight.  We sailed the ship around the world in a mere three hours.  We sang our way through the entire score of _Les Miserables._  We hate each other, we fell passionately in love, we found out we're long-lost siblings.  Pick whichever one you want."

Marcus gives us a disappointed smile.  He really wanted some dirt.  "Well, as long as you had an enjoyable time."

I stand up, and Marcus and the cameraman turn to me.  I look at Malfoy over Marcus' shoulder.  "It was lovely.  My only complaint is that three just wasn't enough."

"Three hours, you mean?"

I look straight into Malfoy's eyes, remembering our three times.  Malfoy smiles knowingly at me.  "Yes, hours.  What else would I mean?"

Marcus finally gives up, realizing he's not going to get any good information out of either of us.  We're left for a while with our deck chairs and books, the same as before except with the exciting bonus of video surveillance.  Malfoy has his book on his chest and his head tilted back again, his eyes shut against the sun.

"Need a nap?"

A wry smile curls the corner of his mouth.  "Just resting my eyes.  I've looked at a lot today."

I look at him for a moment, watching the book on his chest rise and fall with his breathing.  "You know, Draco…"

"We really should talk game strategy?"  He opens one eye to look at me.

"Get out of my head."

"Haven't you heard that old saying, 'great minds think alike'?"

I reach over with one leg and give him a kick.  "You're missing the second part, about how fools seldom differ."

"If your game strategy is going to involve kicking me, I don't think it's going to work."

I try to give him an exasperated sigh, but the end comes out as a chuckle.  Malfoy opens one eye again as we hear one of the crewmen approaching.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but dinner is served."

We put our books down and stand up from the comfortable chairs.  Malfoy takes my hand as we return to the deck of the ship.  The same table is there waiting for us, but with a fancier white tablecloth and two tall candles flickering in the slight breeze.  In a show of gallantry, Malfoy pulls out a chair for me.  Just as with lunch, we're supplied with bread and butter and a fresh bottle of crisp wine.  

We're given another salad course to start, with a different dressing than the lunch salads, but still just as delicious.  Our conversation stops and starts around bites of food, but even the silences are comfortable.  I feel like I've just started getting to know Draco Malfoy, and yet like I've known him for years; both of which are true in their own way.

The main course is delivered family-style; dishes of green beans with butter sauce, roasted carrots and a delicious-smelling bowl of Fettuccine Alfredo.  I'm surprised to see my favorite foods represented on the table.

"Your favorite dishes, eh?  Decent choices," comments Malfoy as he starts filling his plate.

"How did you know that these were my favorites?"

"Because they served all of my favorites for lunch.  I figured they'd do whatever you'd filled out on your application for dinner."  He smiles and hands me a bowl of Parmesan cheese, which I spread liberally over my pasta.  It's heavenly, the noodles cooked perfectly, the sauce incredibly creamy and rich.

Through the meal, our discussion actually does change to game strategy.  We discuss how Pete could be a good person to take to the finals, because nobody would vote for him to win.  But the fact that he's so personally distasteful makes us both want to vote him out as soon as possible.

"I would like to beat him in an immunity challenge … fair and square."  There's a gleam in Malfoy's eye.  His meaning is clear – in true manly fashion, he wants to beat Pete without the aid of magic, just to show that he can.  I roll my eyes, and Malfoy responds with a boyish grin.

"All right, so Pete will stay.  Kiki is with us; between the three of us, we have half the votes locked up.  And I'm pretty sure Ellen will vote however Kiki and I tell her to."  I shoot Malfoy a sympathetic glance.  "That leaves Sheryl, the last member of your old tribe."

We decide that Sheryl will go next, and in the unlikely even that she wins immunity tomorrow, that Ellen will be the next to go.  Looking at the remains of our meal, I note that there's still plenty of food left over.  Malfoy calls over one of the crewmen.

"I don't suppose we could get a doggie bag for this?"

The crewman bows.  "It's your meal, sir, to do with as you see fit.  You're allowed to take away anything you can carry in your hands."  He moves down toward the kitchen, and quickly returns with cardboard takeout-style containers.  Malfoy's grinning like a schoolboy as he fills the containers with vegetables and pasta.  Using our four available hands, we manage to grab several containers of food and the remaining two bottles of wine.

We're escorted to the edge of the boat, where our rope ladder awaits for our descent back to the speedboat.  Malfoy and I look at the ladder, then our hands full of containers, then back at the ladder.

"You can catch, right?"

"Of course!  I used to play … um … baseball.  I could snitch the ball right out of the air."

"Good.  Then put your stuff down, and get down there."  I nudge him with my foot.  "Or the kicking strategy will start up again."

Malfoy makes his way down the ladder.  I watch him descend, the orange evening sunlight making his blond hair shine.  I want to run my hands through that hair again; hell, I want to get naked with him again and run my hands all over his beautiful bronzed body.  I want to…

"Any day now, Hermione."  I'm shaken out of my reverie by Malfoy's shout.  He's waiting on the deck of the speedboat, looking up at me knowingly.  I feel my cheeks grow red.

One by one, I drop the containers of food straight down to him, and he catches them with a deft grace.  Last but not least, I send the two bottles of wine down to him as gently as I can.  He gracefully catches them both in turn, and finally it's my turn to go back down the ladder and re-enter the game.  We sit next to each other on the cushioned seats, a semicircle of wine and food on the deck around our feet.  I feel Malfoy's hand on the back of my neck, gently running his fingers up into my hair, then back down again to caress my shoulders.  

I lean toward him, and he lowers his head to my ear to whisper.  "Only seven more days."

I tilt my head up so I can whisper back.  "What's a week between friends?"

"It'll be sheer torture.  Are you sure you don't want to just go public?"

I ponder the proposition.  It would certainly be nicer to be able to touch him whenever I want, and not worry about who sees us.  "Well, besides the fact that Kiki already knows something is going on between us … I worry about Pete.  If we're keeping him around, I don't want him being even freakier about us.  Not to mention the fact that I don't want millions of viewers to watch us do what I want to do to you."

Malfoy gives a shuddering sigh, then nods in agreement.  It's the best move to keep this relationship from the other players, to avoid giving them more ammunition for their own game strategies.

We have time to share one more long, passionate kiss before the boat makes the final turn into the lagoon.  He's disgustingly perfect – in turn firm and gentle, very aware of my needs, not to mention an incredible lover.  And don't forget beautiful, funny and smart.

The sun has almost set by the time our small boat pulls up on the beach.  Our four teammates are there to greet us: the three women because they're eager to hear about the reward, and Pete because it's what he's expected to do.  I can tell by the sullen look on his face that he'd rather be anywhere than finding out what a great time we had on our reward.

We pass the containers of food down, then each hop from the boat with a bottle of wine in hand.  The women cheer us for bringing back the food, and we head back to the fire to divide it all up.  Pete grabs his plate and sits just far enough away to register his disgust.

Kiki is a fountain of questions.  "Did you have fun?  What was for lunch?  What did you do?  Were you really left all alone?"

We answer with our prepared story: truth about lunch and dinner, and three hours of fictitious resting and relaxing and reading in between, and some vague references to "getting to know each other better."  We describe the beds, and how comfortable they were for napping.  Likewise the hot showers get a mention, without adding in the details of how well they fit two people.  But as the half-truths are coming out of my mouth, I can't help but remember the actual facts.  Merely mentioning the shower brings back hot memories of laughter and soap and slow, sensual lovemaking.

Finally, everyone is full of gourmet pasta and satisfied with our reward stories.  Kiki and I take the plates down to the ocean to give them a quick rinse.

Kiki dips a plate into the water and looks at me.  "So, how was he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I deadpan.

She grins at me.  "Oh, give it up.  You're lit up like a Christmas tree, and you haven't been able to take your eyes off of him all night."

I smile back at her.  "I said the reward was relaxing.  I didn't say what was so relaxing about it."

Kiki takes her time with a plate.  "You know, Pete was insufferable while you were gone."

I stiffen.  "What the hell is his problem?  What I do is none of his concern."

"I know, I know.  But I just wanted you to know.  He was making up all sorts of scenarios for that reward.  Not only that you two were having the wild animal sex," she winks, "but also really weird stuff.  Like the idea that you were both plotting together, and that you'd come back and slit our throats in the night."

"That's … weird."  I ponder this new strangeness of Pete.  "He hasn't … done anything with you or to you, has he?"

Kiki shakes her head.  "Nothing I could really complain about.  He's grabbed my arm a couple of times, but never too hard to leave a mark.  And of course, he's made all sorts of threats about the game, but that can all be classified as his playing technique."

"Well, just let me know if he does anything else.  I just don't know if I should be concerned or not."

She finishes up with the plates, pauses thoughtfully, then sits in the warm sand.  I take a seat next to her.

"How's the alliance?  Has this changed anything?"

I sigh and weigh my words before speaking.  "I think we can get to the final three.  But from there … honestly, if I were to win that last immunity, I'm just not sure who I'd rather be up against in the final."

"What about Draco?"

"I haven't asked him.  I know he's aligned with us to get to the final three, but …"

"You just don't know if love is more powerful than money?"

I turn quickly toward her.  "I never mentioned love."

Kiki stands up and brushes the sand from her bottom.  I can see her white teeth as she grins down at me in the dark.  "You didn't need to, duckie."

She holds out a hand.  I take it and let her help me up off the sand.  After a bottom-brushing of my own, we collect the cleaned plates and return to the shelter to find everyone else getting ready for bed.  I find Malfoy already using my pillow, eyes closed with a slight smile on his face.  I lie down next to him and run my hand up his side, eliciting a slight intake of breath.  I put my head down on his chest and wrap an arm around his torso.  He wraps his arms around me, and I can feel him gently kiss the top of my head.

I revel in the smell of him, the sound of his heartbeat, his warmth.  I can't wait for the next week to pass.

  
  


* * *

Author's note (12/30/03): I know, I know. It's been a long time since I've updated. And I'm sorry to say, it will probably be a while longer. I'm currently in rehearsal for a production of _The Winter's Tale,_ ironically enough, and my free time to write is at a premium.  
  
I promise I will continue writing this story whenever possible, and update as frequently as I can. I also promise that this fic WILL be finished eventually. So pretty please, no reviews that only tell me to update soon. 


	31. Day Thirty Three

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Three  
  
I wake up suddenly with a jerk. Blinking slowly in the early morning light, I can't remember any specific dream that might have awakened me. Maybe it was a noise outside or in the shelter.  
  
I stretch my arms above my head and turn to look around the shelter. It looks like everyone's still asleep. Malfoy's arm, which was lightly draped across my stomach, tightens around me when I move. Looking down at him, I can see his lips moving in his sleep but I can't make out any words. After a few more moments his arm relaxes again, and I can pull myself away and quietly step out of the shelter.  
  
It looks like it rained a little in the middle of the night – the trees and bushes sparkle in the morning sunlight and the sand is a bit damp. I put a few minutes into uncovering the embers in our fire pit and sparking them back to life. It's harder to do it without magic, but in a way more fulfilling. I'm glad I grew up learning to do things the harder Muggle way, so I could really appreciate the ease of magic.  
  
I putter around the camp for a while, tidying things up and gathering a little bit of firewood. Soon there's a rustling near the shelter, and I see Ellen emerge. She stretches and comes over to me with a smile.  
  
"You're up early this morning."  
  
I grin. "Woke up early, so I figured I'd get started on chores."  
  
"Well, you've taken away most of my early morning chores ... want to get some coconuts?" I nod, and we set off through the underbrush. Once we're far enough way from camp, we start talking more seriously.  
  
"I'm glad you had a good time on your reward yesterday."  
  
"It was nice. But I hear that things weren't exactly pretty back here."  
  
She grimaces. "Pete. He's a strange one, that boy. But ..." Ellen pauses for a long moment.  
  
I set another coconut in our pile. "But what?"  
  
She appears to think over her words. "Pete made me an offer. He's been talking to Sheryl, and wants to bring us in on an alliance. The three of us against the rest of you."  
  
I think about this. "Well, that's something. Ellen, I can't tell you what to do. You know that I'm in with Kiki and Draco, and if things go as planned you'll be in the final four with us. But from then on, it's everyone for themselves, and I can't guarantee you better than a fourth place finish. But if you go in with Pete and Sheryl and you make the final three, you're also risking the possibility of Pete winning the million."  
  
"I know, and that's what's holding me back. I don't want that boy winning anything."  
  
I put a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to Kiki about this, and she'll back up what I've told you – with us, you're definitely in the final four. From then on, we'll just take it day by day. I won't tell you what to do."  
  
Ellen gives me a hug, thanks me, and we take our coconuts back to camp. Malfoy and Kiki are sitting by the fire, but neither of them looks happy. As soon as Kiki sees me, she hops up and runs over.  
  
"Hermione, you're going to love this one." She leads me back to where Malfoy is sitting. "Tell her."  
  
Malfoy rolls his eyes. "He said it was an accident, Kiki." She shakes her head and stares at him. "Fine. Pete accidentally stepped on my ankle when he was getting out of the shelter this morning. He apologized all over the place."  
  
I look down and sure enough, Malfoy's ankle looks a bit swollen and red. Kiki looks ready to burst. "I can't believe you'd accept that 'accident' nonsense. I'm sure he did it on purpose, Draco."  
  
"Either way, there's no way you can prove anything, Ki." He shifts his eyes out toward the water and I follow his gaze. Pete and Sheryl are in the boat, trolling with the net and having what looks like an animated discussion.  
  
I pull Malfoy up by his arm. "Kiki, you should go talk to Ellen. She has some very interesting information. Draco, you need to soak that ankle. Come on." He's actually limping as I lead him over to some rocks where he can put his foot into a tide pool of salty water. I hop down and hold his ankle, gently massaging it. I have to turn my head away from the cameraman to whisper a healing spell while holding Malfoy's ankle. When I'm done, I can see him relax as the pain fades.  
  
"Accident, eh?"  
  
"Oh, you know it wasn't an accident." He grins ruefully. "Gave it a good hearty stomp, he did. But as you so eloquently put it, there's no way we can prove anything." He stands up and tests his weight on the offended ankle.  
  
"I'm concerned about him. Maybe we should get rid of him tonight if we can."  
  
"We'll get rid of him soon ... I just want to beat him fair and square at a physical challenge."  
  
I give him a light punch on the arm. "You and your macho male posturing."  
  
He looks around for other players, then leans in and gives me a quick but passionate kiss. "Ah, but I'm your macho male." With a grin, he theatrically limps back to camp, putting on a show for the cameras.  
  
o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o  
  
Kiki is sitting next to what looks like a stack of notepads, and Ellen has gone down to the waterline to beckon Pete and Sheryl back to shore. Once we're all gathered around the fire, Kiki reads the instructions. We each get a notepad and answer the questions inside, and those answers will form the immunity challenge. Everyone takes a pad and we spread out around the camp, each seeking our own solitude.  
  
The questions are all personal opinion, and it's a challenge to decide which other player is "most trustworthy" or who "works the most around camp". I finish up and turn in my notebook to the designated production assistant. When we're all done, we're warned to not discuss any of our answers. The notebooks are whisked away and we sit around waiting to be called for the challenge.  
  
Pete shifts around in his seat. I look in time to see his usual glaring expression turn to one of incredibly phony sympathy. "Hey Draco, man, how's that ankle?"  
  
Malfoy grimaces in imaginary pain. "Still hurts a lot, man."  
  
"Man, I'm really sorry about that. Really I am."  
  
"Yeah, well, good thing this sounds like a mental challenge and not a physical one, huh? My lucky day."  
  
Pete turns away, his standard sour expression back on his face. He sees me watching him, and our eyes meet. His already dark eyes seem to get even darker, and his lip curls in a sneer. Just as he's about to say something, a producer comes over and tells us it's time to saddle up for the challenge. We all get up and make our way down the beach, me pretending to support Malfoy's weight and Malfoy pretending to limp.  
  
Marcus is waiting for us in a nice shady area with some benches set up. As Pete returns the immunity necklace to Marcus, I get Malfoy settled and take the seat next to him. Each of us has a chalkboard in front of us.  
  
"Before we get started, what happened to you, Draco?"  
  
Malfoy gives a thin smile. "Oh, just an accident around camp. Pete took a wrong step in the shelter and my ankle was in the way."  
  
Marcus looks at Malfoy for a moment, then looks at Pete. It looks like he wants to say something, but instead pauses for a moment. Then he clears his throat. "Well, good thing this isn't a physical challenge today."  
  
We're instructed to pick up our chalkboards, and find pieces of chalk underneath them. "After I ask a question, you'll have twenty seconds to write down your answer," Marcus says. "Then you'll show me what you've written. The first person to get ten answers right wins immunity. The questions come from two groups – the surveys you filled out today with personal opinions about your own teammates, and also informative questions about your teammates who have been voted off."  
  
A couple of people seem startled, and I'm suddenly glad that I'm both social and nosy.  
  
We settle in with our chalkboards, and Marcus asks the first question. "Which former player has two children named Julia and Anthony?" I think back, then quickly write my answer down.  
  
We reveal our boards. "Ellen, Hermione and Kiki all have it right. The answer was Bob. One point to each of them." We erase our answers. "Next question. Which one of you was voted 'Most Trustworthy' by your fellow players?"  
  
This one is a toughie. I go with the answer I wrote down in my notebook, Kiki.  
  
We show our boards again. "Draco, Sheryl, Ellen and Kiki all have it right. The answer is Hermione." I look over at everyone else, and they're all smiling at me. Except for Pete, glaring down at the ground as he holds his chalkboard with "Ellen" written on it.  
  
"Ellen and Kiki are now tied with two points each. Hermione and Draco each have one point."  
  
We make our way through a couple of occupations, a couple of hobbies, and a few opinion questions. I'm doing all right, but Ellen is really cleaning up. Finally, Marcus brings us to the last question.  
  
"All right, Ellen is in the lead with nine points. Kiki is right behind with eight, Draco and Hermione each with seven, and Sheryl and Pete are tied at six. If Ellen gets this one right, she's won immunity." He pauses for dramatic effect, then asks the final question. "Which player thinks they're smarter than they really are?"  
  
I can only go with my previous answer from the questionnaire. I write down Pete's name and wait to be told to reveal it. Marcus tells us to show our boards, and I flip mine around.  
  
"Ellen, Kiki, Draco and Hermione all have it right, the answer was Pete. Ellen wins immunity!" We all stand up and Marcus puts the immunity necklace around Ellen's neck. Pete stands off by himself, not congratulating Ellen. I'm sure his feelings are hurt, having the four of us openly state that we don't think he's very smart. Thanks, producers and game designers. That will sure help the mood at camp.  
  
We're dismissed for the afternoon, and get back to camp in time to do some chores and start cooking dinner. Pete and Sheryl walk down the beach for a conversation, leaving the four of us together.  
  
Draco clears his throat. "So, um ... Pete or Sheryl?"  
  
"Sheryl was the original plan, I think we should stick to that." I pause and shake my head. "I know nobody likes Pete, but we need to get Sheryl out in case she has a sudden winning streak. I'd rather take on Pete in the final than Sheryl, because I know nobody here would vote for Pete to win."  
  
We toss a few more thoughts around, then spot Pete and Sheryl returning. During the cleanup after dinner, they manage to pull Ellen away down the beach. Kiki and I carry the dirty plates down to the water and watch them walk away.  
  
"I hope Ellen sticks with us."  
  
Kiki scratches her head. "Well, nothing we can really do about it now. She knows where we stand, it's up to her."  
  
We finish rinsing the plates and take them back to camp. Everyone but Ellen spends a few minutes packing up personal possessions, and we're off to Tribal Council.  
  
o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o  
  
Malfoy's limping less, putting off the air that he's working at recovering from the injury. Just watching him slog his way down the beach with a phony limp makes me want to laugh, but I have to keep it in. It just might turn hysterical. Once again, my fate in this game rests in the hands of others – specifically Ellen.  
  
The question-and-answer session seems to go on forever, with Marcus grilling Malfoy about the severity of his injury and asking Pete about his feelings for the challenge. Pete's answers are highlighted with a barely contained fury, and I can see Toby, Carla and Chet squirm around in their jury seats. Finally it's time to vote, and we walk that familiar path one by one. When Ellen goes up to vote, Malfoy reaches over and takes my hand.  
  
Marcus brings back the votes and starts going through them one by one. A delicate, feminine script for Draco. My own handwriting for Sheryl. Familiar angry block letters for Draco. Malfoy's handwriting for Sheryl. Kiki's flamboyant style for Sheryl.  
  
"That's three votes for Sheryl, two for Draco." Marcus reaches in and pulls out the last vote. He reads it to himself and pauses. "The eleventh person voted off, and fourth member of our jury," he turns the paper around to show Sheryl's name. "Sheryl, please bring me your torch."  
  
We head back to camp, just the five of us. Pete stays away from the rest of us, probably wallowing in what he feels is betrayal by Ellen. I give her a quick hug before we settle down in the shelter for the night. Malfoy falls quickly asleep beside me, but I lay awake for quite a while, thinking about the game. That's the only reason I know why it was a long time before Pete came in from outside to go to sleep. 

* * *

Whew, that took a while. Sorry for the long delay in updates, especially since we're so close to the end. I'm back in writing mode and will hopefully update MUCH more frequently so we can all find out what's going to happen in this final week.


	32. Day Thirty Four

Sole Survivor  
  
Day Thirty-Four  
  
We're heading away from camp early this morning for the reward challenge, with barely enough time to make and eat a hearty breakfast of rice. Pete takes the lead, stalking off through the underbrush to the challenge site. I hold back with Malfoy, who is still feigning a light limp from yesterday's foot stomping incident. Even with everything I've learned about him this last month, it's still very weird to see him not only showing weakness, but faking a weakness for dramatic purposes.  
  
Marcus is waiting for us at the largest challenge beach, standing in front of several large structures. "So, you're now down to five. And with only five days left of the game, this is the last reward challenge. You may recognize some of the equipment behind me – this challenge is going to be a combination of several challenges from earlier in the game."  
  
He beckons for us to follow, and we trail along behind him as he walks along the side of the challenge area.  
  
"You'll start with a small ropes and obstacle course, which you may remember from your very first immunity challenge. After passing through that, you'll come to a puzzle. The pieces are buried in a four-foot by four-foot plot of sand. You must dig up all of the pieces and put the puzzle together correctly. Once you're cleared on that, you'll move on to archery. You must get two arrows to stick in the target. Then you'll move on to the final part, a small maze. There is a flag attached to a key for each of you. Bring that flag and key out, and you've won reward." He pauses for a moment, smiling at us. "Want to know what you're playing for?"  
  
Of course we do. Marcus leads us around to the back side of the maze. "The key you bring out will fit in this." We stop in front of a very large sport utility vehicle. Everyone seems very excited as Marcus explains the make and model – one of the newest and largest SUVs this year. I can't help but think that if I won it I would sell it. My very small car is much better suited to city driving, and my old Stargazer 600 broom is perfect for everything else. Marcus also takes a moment to remind us that they give away a car every year on the show, and so far, not a single person who has won the car has also won the game. It certainly doesn't give me an urge to fight for the car.  
  
We randomly draw for our positions along the starting line. I draw red, right in the middle. I take my place behind the line, and can see all my red straight ahead. Red ropes, a red board for assembling what's sure to be a red puzzle, a red archery target. On my left it's Kiki with yellow and Malfoy with blue on the end, and on my right is Pete with green and Ellen on the end with purple. I'm a little apprehensive about racing next to Pete, but hopefully he wants to win an enormous car more than he wants to sabotage me.  
  
I glance over at Malfoy, who winks at me and then jerks his chin toward Pete. I don't know what to make of that. Either Malfoy is still determined to beat Pete fair and square in a challenge, or he has something planned that I probably don't want to know about. Before I have time to figure it out, Marcus starts the challenge.  
  
I remember the ropes course as I climb through it. A three-dimensional tangle of ropes that must be climbed over and through. Fortunately, I'm pretty small and can squeeze almost straight through the gaps in the ropes. I pull myself out from the end, and see that Kiki and Ellen are both pretty close to me. Pete and Malfoy are both having more troubles, since they're both larger and not able to squeeze through as many tight spots. We ladies move on to the puzzle, the guys just a few moments behind. I'm looking for my pieces with just enough speed to avoid suspicion, but I'm not exactly rushing. Ellen and Kiki are stacking up their puzzle pieces much faster than I am. In the sandbox next to me, Pete is throwing up huge clouds of sand in his usual rushing manner. If a bull running through a china shop could be translated evenly to a man digging through the sand, it would be Pete. All rush and no grace. I get my last puzzle piece and take them all to my board. A quick glance shows Kiki and Ellen already working on their puzzles, and Malfoy just starting on his.  
  
I could use a spell to put my puzzle together, but it's actually nice to put it together using my own brainpower. Even without the help of magic, I still manage to make up some lost time behind Kiki and Ellen. I move on to the archery station just moments after they both do. I shoot a few arrows at my target and manage to get one to stick. Ellen and Kiki aren't having much luck – Ellen sat out the first time we did this challenge because she was such a terrible shot during practice. Malfoy moves into the archery area, and I hear Pete shout behind me for Marcus to look at his completed puzzle. The thought crosses my mind that Pete just doesn't deserve to win a new car. I really don't want it, and Malfoy won't need it either, so I whisper a quick spell at Ellen and Kiki. Both of their next two arrows hit their targets, and they're off to the maze.  
  
Malfoy hits the target twice, and I get my second arrow in. Pete rushes up, misses with his first arrow, then hits the target with the next two. The three of us move to the maze at nearly the same time, but we're all a good minute behind Ellen and Kiki. I take a left turn, but both Malfoy and Pete continue on past me. I wander around down a corridor, find a dead end, backtrack. I'm almost back to the main entrance when I first hear a man shout off to my left, then see Ellen run by, a purple flag clutched in her hand. She rushes out the maze entrance and around the side, and a moment later Marcus declares the challenge over. I leave the maze and wait for the rest of the players to come out. Kiki is first, a dejected look on her face and a yellow flag with a key attached clutched in her hand. Pete is next, flinging his green flag down with disgust. And last is Malfoy, with empty hands but a big grin on his face.  
  
Marcus gathers us all around Ellen's new car. She has a huge smile on her face, and tells Marcus that she's never owned a brand new car in her life.  
  
Marcus smiles. "Not only have you won the car, you've also won an additional prize." Ellen actually gasps. "You can drive your new car down the beach, where we have a gourmet lunch waiting for you. And since lunch is no fun alone, you may choose one of your teammates to go with you."  
  
Ellen looks around at all of us, and then points at Kiki. Not a surprising choice, since Kiki is probably the person Ellen considers her closest friend out of those of us left in the game. Marcus dismisses the rest of us back to camp, then climbs in the backseat. Ellen and Kiki get into the front, and they drive off down the beach.  
  
Leaving me with Malfoy and Pete.  
  
Thank goodness there are so many cameramen around. If not, things could get ugly.  
  
Pete glares around at everyone, then quickly takes off toward camp. Malfoy and I saunter back, losing sight of Pete ahead of us. But even though we can't see him up ahead, it's impossible to miss the sound of him furiously crashing his way through the underbrush. By the time we make it back to camp, we can see a tiny silhouette of Pete far down the beach.  
  
"Well, I guess he's not going to share a gourmet lunch with us." Malfoy smiles. "Want to go get some fish?"  
  
I agree, and we set out in the tiny fishing boat. Malfoy paddles us out far enough that we can easily see both our camp and Pete's solitary figure down the beach. I drop the net into the water and turn to him.  
  
"So, anything exciting happen back there in the maze?"  
  
"Hmm." He closes his eyes and relaxes in the sun. "Pete had a little mishap."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Well, from where I was standing, it looked like he was running straight at Ellen. But since it's against the rules to interfere with other players during a challenge," he opens one eye lazily, then closes it again, "I'm sure he wasn't actually going to push her or trip her or anything."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"I don't know," he says with a lazy smile, "it's like Pete just tripped over his own feet. He went facedown in the sand, and Ellen had to practically jump over him on her way to the exit."  
  
"Interesting. Just tripped over his own feet, hmm?"  
  
"What can I say, Pete seems very accident-prone when it comes to these maze challenges. Accidentally ran into me in that first one, and now this." Malfoy sits up and looks toward Pete, far away on the shore. "Unfortunately, right after he fell, he saw me looking at him."  
  
I poke his foot with mine, down in the bottom of the boat where the cameras can't see. "So what, it's not like you could make him trip when you were nowhere near him. That would take some kind of magic."  
  
He raises an eyebrow, smiles and plays footsie back. "Yeah, but who knows what conclusions the unstable mind can come to."  
  
After a while, we head back in with two small fish. I worry about sharing lunch with Pete, but he's apparently planning on spending the afternoon in solitude. We can see him far down the beach, wandering between the palm trees and the waterline, sometimes spending quite a while just sitting or standing, looking out to sea.  
  
It's very unnerving. I'd much rather have him here at camp throwing insults around, instead of spending all that time stewing and thinking by himself.  
  
Kiki and Ellen come back in the late afternoon, bearing some leftover food and tales of a lovely lunch together. Pete eventually comes back for a while, but he doesn't say much over dinner and wanders off again afterward. The four of us sit around the fire and watch as he trudges off down the beach.  
  
"I told Kiki, but I'll tell you guys too," Ellen says. "When we were in that maze ... Pete came at me, and I thought for a minute he was going to hurt me."  
  
I nod. "Draco told me that he tripped and fell, though."  
  
"Yeah, he did. But I was really scared for a minute." Ellen looks genuinely concerned, and I can understand what it must have been like, having been on the receiving end of Pete's anger before.  
  
Malfoy clears his throat. "The most important thing is that we can't let him win immunity next." We all nod. "No matter who else wins it, he needs to leave in two days."  
  
The discussion changes to lighter topics, and after a while we all head to the shelter for the night. With only four of us in there, it feels incredibly roomy. By the time I drift off to sleep, Pete still hasn't come back. 


	33. Day Thirty Five

Sole Survivor  
  
Day Thirty-Five  
  
We're all up fairly early this morning. I have no idea if Pete ever came into the shelter last night; there are only four of us in here this morning. If he did come in to sleep, he must have left before dawn.  
  
It's slow going today. Everyone is tired, and most likely ready for the game to be over. We all expect today to be a day off, since Tribal Council isn't until tomorrow night. So it's a surprise when we're told to check our mailbox.  
  
Ellen and I go out and retrieve the challenge notice and a small box. We come back to find everyone sitting around the fire pit, waiting – even Pete. Ellen reads the rhyming note, which tells us we'll "all be waiting, breathless" to see who gets voted out tomorrow night. I open the box to find swim goggles for everyone.  
  
"So a swim challenge of some sort, then?" Kiki twirls her goggles around her finger by their strap.  
  
Ellen takes her own goggles. "I wonder how difficult it will be. Seems like the challenges keep getting harder."  
  
"Difficult for you, maybe." Pete grabs some goggles from the box. He stands there for a moment, turning in a slow circle to glare at the rest of us. "Some of us aren't weak. I fully intend to win any aquatic challenge." With that, he turns and trudges down the beach for more Pete Private Time.  
  
We sit quietly for a moment, looking at each other. Finally Kiki shakes her head. "Well, that was interesting. Let's all try to win that challenge today, shall we?" Ellen, Malfoy and I couldn't agree more.  
  
"Why do you think the challenge is a day early?" Ellen asks.  
  
Malfoy runs his hand along his jaw. "Maybe they want to throw us off. The further we make it in this game, the higher the stakes. I'm sure they want to add more tension, more paranoia. Looks like it's working on some people." He tips his head down the beach toward Pete.  
  
I look down the beach and watch Pete's shadowy form grow smaller.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
We emerge onto the usual beach used for water challenges. Marcus isn't standing there waiting for us – he's out on a floating platform. Most of us swim out slowly, not wanting to waste too much energy before the challenge. Of course, Pete has to be different, and he swims out to the platform so fast one might think he believes that the water is on fire. The rest of us climb onto the platform in a more leisurely fashion.  
  
"So, now we're down to five." Marcus smiles wide. "Whoever wins immunity today will have a one-in-four chance of winning the million. However, for the rest, there will be a very difficult night of decision-making before tomorrow night's Tribal Council." He steps over to Ellen and takes back the immunity necklace.  
  
"Immunity is now back up for grabs. Today is a very simple challenge – all you need to do is hold your breath." He indicates five painted areas evenly spaced around the edge of the circular platform. "You'll each take a spot. On my go, you'll all go underwater. There's a bar down there to hold on to. Last one to surface wins immunity."  
  
We shuffle around to take our positions. Malfoy watches Pete, then puts on his own goggles.  
  
"Fair and square?" I ask him. I'm sure Malfoy's still determined to beat Pete at a challenge without any magical help.  
  
"Fair and square." He quirks an eyebrow at me, then gives me a big, genuine smile. "Good luck."  
  
"You too." I adjust my goggles so they're well situated and not pulling on my hair. To heck with fairness – right now I wish I had some gillyweed, or that I could do a bubble-head charm without the cameras on me. But I can see divers down in the water, circling like techno-sharks with underwater cameras ready to record the exciting breath-holding action.  
  
We all get down into the water and hold on to the side of the platform. Marcus walks a lap of the platform, checking to make sure we're all in position. "All right," he starts.  
  
As soon as he starts speaking, I start to hyperventilate. Lots of quick, shallow, panting breaths, in an attempt to saturate my body with as much oxygen as possible.  
  
"All right," Marcus says. "On the count of three, take your breath and get underwater. Good luck. One, two, three."  
  
On three, I take one last enormous gasp of air and push myself down into the water. The water isn't perfectly clear, but it's good enough that I can see everyone else around the platform. Ellen is next to me on my right. Just as I look over at her, she's kicking her feet and all I can see is from her shoulders down. She's already out. I can tell that Marcus or someone else is talking – it's more like I can feel the sound as pressure in my ears than actually hear what's being said.  
  
I decide not to watch my fellow players anymore – it's easier to concentrate on a task if I can shut off the outside world. I close my eyes and try to let my mind wander elsewhere. The first thought is that this is what it must have been like during the Triwizard Tournament so many years ago. Ron and I were both unconscious through most of it, but Harry described it fairly well afterward. My mind drifts along to another water- related memory; the traditional Gryffindor midnight skinny-dip in the lake two nights before graduation. We were still young enough to believe we were getting away with something – though now I'm sure the staff intentionally turned their backs on us. Even Snape had enough human decency to allow us that small bit of carousing before we had to leave school and face a real world in the middle of a war.  
  
I keep my eyes shut as my mind drifts, wondering if Malfoy participated in any similar Slytherin traditions. Just another thing I'll have to ask him once the game is over. Sounds occasionally press on my eardrums, then a period of silence. I wonder how long I've been underwater. My lungs are starting to protest, and there's a slight burning feeling in my chest and throat. The urge to take a deep breath is starting to grow strong.  
  
I hear louder voice sounds, then feel a light tap on my shoulder. I open my eyes and see a cameraman right in front of me. I look around him and wonder for a moment where everyone's gone. The cameraman is moving his hand in a thumbs-up gesture. I can see him smiling behind his mask, and I realize I'm the last one underwater.  
  
I pull myself up with my hand and give a couple of weak kicks with my feet. It's enough to pop me up out of the water, and I take a deep gasping breath. Marcus and Malfoy both reach down, and I take each of their hands. They haul me up on the platform. I feel a little weak and shaky, and Malfoy holds my arm to help support me, as Marcus places the immunity necklace around my neck.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
"So we're sitting there," Ellen says, "and the three of you are still under. Marcus calls out three minutes. I didn't know people could even hold their breath that long."  
  
Malfoy leans back. "I tried to stay under as long as I could, but I just couldn't win this one. I checked out Pete, who was staring at me, and then I looked at you. It was like you were in some kind of trance. I had to surface, I guess it was right after Marcus called three minutes and thirty seconds."  
  
"So it was you and Pete." Ellen shakes her head. "Kiki and I were worried that he would win. Not that we didn't have confidence in you, but ..."

I smile and nod to let her know I understand. "So Marcus is calling out the time every fifteen seconds or so. I was amazed when it passed four minutes, then four and a half. And finally at four minutes and about fifty seconds, Pete came up."  
  
"And boy, was he angry," adds Malfoy. He grins at me. "If I couldn't beat him, I'm glad you did."  
  
"Thank goodness you did." Ellen gets up, brushes the sand off her legs and walks away, leaving Malfoy and I alone.  
  
I draw some lines in the sand. "Looks like now you'll never get the chance to beat him fair and square."  
  
Malfoy sighs, then shrugs. "Difficult as it is, I've had to learn that you can't always get the things you want." He leans over and gives me a gentle kiss. "Though sometimes, patience pays off."  
  
"Knock it off, you two." Kiki strolls from the jungle back into camp. "Hermione, it's your turn for confessional." She leans in close and drops a wink. "It's the cute cameraman with the black hair, so be a good girl. He's waiting for you by the waterfall."  
  
Kiki holds out a hand and helps me up off the sand. I brush the sand off my rear and start down the trail to the pool and waterfall. I hear Malfoy comment as I leave, "but I thought I was the only one who thought that guy was dreamy!" It makes me smile, and think about how lucky I am. I have a goofy grin on my face as I walk down the path. I'm already planning what I'll say to the cameras, as I usually do. A little preparation beforehand never hurt in anything.  
  
I get to the pool and follow the shore to the right, toward the waterfall. I watch my footing along the wet shore, so it's a surprise when I look up where the interviews are usually held and don't see the black-haired cameraman.  
  
I turn around. "Hello?" I call. No answer. This is weird. I crane my neck to look into the brush beyond the pool, but I don't see any sign of another person.  
  
I hear a rustling behind me. I start to turn, then suddenly I'm looking up at the trees. And my face hurts.  
  
I open my mouth to shout, but there's a weight covering it. Pete's grinning face enters my field of view. I can feel the weight of his legs on mine. I try to hit him, but realize that my arms are pinned over my head. I try to scream, but he has a hand clamped down over my mouth. His hand hurts a lot, but only on the right side of my face. Finally I understand – Pete punched me. The bastard punched me in the face to knock me down.  
  
His face is contorted in malice. "You have no idea," he says through teeth gritted in an evil grin, "how good that felt."  
  
I try to throw him off of me, but he's too heavy. I can only manage a little bit of motion. He laughs in my face. I try to shout a spell at him, but can only make muffled sounds against the palm of his hand.  
  
"You little bitch, you think I'm going to let you steal that million dollars from me?" I try to shake my head.  
  
He clamps his hand down harder on my mouth, pressing up into my nose as well. It's getting hard to get enough air. "Don't you lie to me, bitch. You stole immunity from me today. There's no way I'm letting you vote me off this island." He tilts my head to the side, and now I can see a sturdy hiking boot and part of a khaki-clad leg sticking out of some bushes. The black-haired cameraman will not be coming to my rescue anytime soon.  
  
"I'm not going to let them stop me." He moves my head so I'm forced to stare up at him again. "And I'm not going to let you stop me. You and your little blond boyfriend are going to pay for trying to steal my money."  
  
Throughout the whole game, I've wondered what Pete's problem is. Now I see, the problem is simply that he's insane.  
  
Once again, I feel the burning in my chest from not enough air. But this time I can't just kick up to the surface and take a deep breath. Pete's hand is clamped over my mouth, with the side of his hand crammed up against my nostrils. I make another effort to get away, but I'm barely able to move. The heavy burning feeling in my lungs is joined by a light dizzy feeling in my head. I can still see Pete's snarling face above me, but it's as if he's in a spotlight, and everything around him is dark. The darkness slowly creeps in further from the edges of my vision, threatening to take over. Pete's saying something else to me, but it's too low to make out over the dull buzzing sound in my head. I can see his lips moving, but his face is growing blurry and dim.  
  
Above the buzzing, I hear a shout, then the pressure on my legs is gone. I hear dull thumping sounds, but can't decide if they're outside my head or inside. I feel my whole body twitch, then try to breathe. Miraculously, the pressure around my mouth and nose is gone, and I can suck in a ragged half-breath. The fuzziness is still there, as is the darkness around my vision.  
  
I see something bright above me. Hair. Malfoy's hair. And his face, surrounded by the darkness. His mouth is moving, but the sound is muffled and keeps cutting in and out, like he's at the end of a very long tunnel. I can feel him shaking me.  
  
"Hermione, don't ... are you ... never thought ... kill that son of ... come on!"  
  
I want to tell him, "I guess you beat him fair and square this time." I manage to croak out "I geh," then everything warps into blackness.


	34. Night Thirty Five

Sole Survivor 

Night Thirty-Five

The sun has already gone down, but there's plenty of light here at the field production camp. Somewhere behind the tents I can hear the low hum of a gas generator. If this small tent I'm in is any indication, the production staff doesn't have it that much more luxurious than we players. A single light bulb dangles from the center of the tiny room. There's a canvas cot in the corner, a tiny table next to it, and I'm sitting in a glorified lawn chair. According to the crew, the main production camp a few miles away isn't that much better.

They've given me the odd pairing of a warm blanket and a cold drink. I'm thankful for both. Despite the warm night air, I still feel chilled. It probably doesn't help that I'm steadily sipping from my tall cup of ice water, trying to soothe the lingering soreness in my throat. Just the ice would be nice enough, but the water is obviously bottled instead of the flat and flavorless boiled water we've been drinking at camp. This water is so crisp it's almost like a fizzy drink.

I can hear voices outside of the tent, and I want to go out and join them. I feel like I've been sitting here for hours, my only company the occasional visit from Malfoy or a member of the crew to bring me more water and ask if I'm doing okay. I know that Pete is in this small camp somewhere, but I don't know where. I guess I woke up again pretty fast, and they made a quick decision to move the whole situation out of the playing area. Despite my protests that I could walk, Malfoy insisted on carrying me back here to the camp.

I wonder what Kiki and Ellen are doing. I know a production assistant was sent to tell them that Pete, Malfoy and I were going to be away for a while, but they weren't to be told why.

I put my cup of water on the small table, wrap the blanket around myself tighter and get up out of the chair. My legs are a little shaky, but I stand quietly for a moment and the feeling goes away. The voices get louder outside, and as I come out of the tent, Malfoy is in a heated discussion with the head producer, Larry, about the psychological testing we all had to go through to get on the show.

"Of course we wouldn't let someone on the show if we knew they were dangerous." Larry shakes his head. "But sometimes unpredictable things happen. There's no way to know what will happen to someone when they're deprived of enough food or water or rest. I'm not going to tell you his test results, but I can tell you that we had absolutely no reason to believe anything like this would happen."

I clear my throat, and both men look over at me. Malfoy steps quickly to my side.

"You shouldn't be out here, you should be inside resting."

"I'm doing fine. Sitting in there was boring, and I don't want to be alone." His eyes search my face with concern, trying to make sure I'm telling the truth about feeling better.

"Larry." A member of the production team beckons from a larger tent. "We need you for a minute."

Larry puts a concerned hand on my shoulder. "I'll be right back." He walks off into the tent. Malfoy runs his hand gently down my cheek.

"Hermione, I ..." He pauses and swallows, then opens his mouth as if uncertain what to say.

There's a rustling from the larger tent. Larry is there again, holding the front flap open. "Draco, Hermione, will you join us in here"  
We walk into the tent, where there are a half-dozen people sitting around a table. I freeze in the doorway, scanning every face to make sure Pete isn't here. Larry puts a hand on my elbow, sensing my apprehension. "Pete's not here, it's just production staff." He leads me to a seat, and Malfoy takes the chair next to me.

Larry indicates the dark-haired cameraman seated on the other side of the table. "You know Justin, of course." The man has an icepack held to the back of his head, and raises his other hand in a weak wave. Larry makes sure we know everyone else, all familiar members of the production staff.

"We have a problem." Larry looks down at some papers on the table in front of him. "Pete's story is very different from yours, and even though it sounds a bit unbelievable," he rolls his eyes, "we have no absolute proof that it didn't happen his way."

Malfoy stands up, furious. "What the hell do you mean?"

Larry waves a hand at Malfoy, indicating that he should sit down. "Draco, please. Let me finish." Malfoy slowly sits back down, looking at his hands clenched into fists on top of the table.

"Justin here was certainly knocked out cold, but he never saw what or who it was." Justin gives me a sympathetic look from across the table. "Pete claims that he entered the area just in time to see ..." Larry picks up a sheet of paper and sighs before reading directly from the paper, "a coconut fall from an overhead tree and, quote, whack that guy in the head."

Malfoy mutters under his breath, "You've got to be shitting me." His fists clench tighter.

"Pete then went on to say that Hermione entered the clearing and fainted, 'obviously from overtaxing herself' during the challenge. She fell to the ground and struck her cheek on a rock."

Malfoy looks up. "Convenient, how he can explain everything away."

Larry finishes up with the story. "Pete says he was concerned about Hermione, and rushed over to try and revive her. It was at that time that Draco entered the scene, found Pete leaning over Hermione, pulled him to his feet and punched him several times."

Malfoy starts to stand up again, so I put a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me for a long moment, then sits back down. I lean forward toward Larry. "So what now?"

He shakes his head sadly. "There are a couple of ways we could go from here. Unfortunately, there's no real clear path. If we had any proof of your version of events, that would be one thing. But we've gone over Justin's footage – his microphone broke when his camera hit the ground, so all we have is a long, silent shot of a bunch of trees. Nothing at all was captured on film." He looks at Malfoy, then nods toward another of the cameramen. "Phil followed Draco, but by the time he got there, it was just Draco surrounded by three unconscious people on the ground."

Larry leans in and concentrates on me. "Hermione, we'd like to know what you want us to do. That will at least give us something to go on. You have options here - you can press charges if you like, but that would disrupt and possibly end the game. If you're comfortable with it, you can let Pete back into the game." I shudder at the very thought, and everyone can see my discomfort. "Tribal Council is tomorrow night, and I know you guys were going to vote him out anyway."

Malfoy looks up at Larry in surprise. Larry laughs. "We do have some idea of what's going on out there. We've been observing you for over a month." He turns back to me, waiting for my answer.

I look around the table at these people, then turn to Larry. "So it's mostly up to me?"

He shrugs. "We'll certainly take your wishes very seriously before making a final decision. Tell us what kind of resolution you'd like to see, and we'll take that and the whole issue to the main camp for discussion."

Malfoy moves in his seat beside me. "You haven't told everyone yet?"

Larry shakes his head. "Only the people in this tent, and Pete, know that a situation has occurred. That's why we'd like to know what Hermione wants us to do, so we know how to approach the situation with the rest of the crew."

I put a hand on Malfoy's knee under the table, then turn to Larry. "Is there a place I can talk this over with Draco before making my decision?"

Larry leads us back out to the same small tent I was in earlier. "We'll all be back at the conference tent, just come on in when you've decided." He closes the flap and leaves us alone.

Malfoy quickly hops up and casts a silencing spell around the tent, then checks to make sure there are no recording devices inside. Once we're both convinced we can talk without being overheard, we sit down next to each other on the small cot.

"All right," I sigh. "Let's go over the actual options."

"You can't be seriously thinking about letting Pete back in the game."

"Please note, Mr. Malfoy, that I said 'actual options', which opens us up to some different choices than those presented in that meeting." I reach under my t-shirt, whisper a spell and pull out my wand, transfigured back into its normal state. "Surely a smart fellow like yourself can come up with better options than those two."

He looks at me for a long moment, head tilted slightly to the side. He opens and closes his mouth silently a couple of times, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he speaks. "Are you sure you're a Gryffindor?"

I smile at him. "Bravery got me a punch in the face. I'm more than willing to see how things work from a more ... snakelike perspective."

He smiles back at me, and clasps his hands together. "All right then. Let's talk about these options."

"The only valid option they already gave me was prosecuting Pete through the law. But, they're right, it would be very disruptive to the game."

"I don't think you want to go to the far extreme with the other option," he says. I look at him, puzzled. "You could allow Pete back in the game, but under Imperio."

I shake my head. "You're right, I don't want to do that. I don't think we can risk this by using anything Unforgivable, even though right now I'd love to give Pete a taste of Crucio."

Malfoy runs his hand through his hair, a pensive look on his face. "We could Oblivate everyone here at the camp."

"And what, do Pete as well? Let him back into the game for one day?"

"It's an option. We'd have to destroy some of the film from today as well."

I shake my head. "These are fairly smart people, won't they be perplexed at having no footage at all for several hours of the game?"

"They must have some coverage of us doing mundane things at camp – eating dinner, doing chores. We can duplicate some of that to cover the missing time."

A thought strikes me, and it makes me feel a terrible sinking in my stomach. "We'd have to Oblivate Ellen and Kiki as well, so they don't ask too many questions about where we've been."

Malfoy silently takes my hand.

Damn you, Pete. Damn you for making me have to make this crappy choice, where the only way I can win is to betray the only friend I've had since day one. But I realize that using magic is the only way we can keep the game running smoothly, and I'll only have to be around an Oblivated and hopefully less violent Pete for one more day.

I sigh. "That bastard. There must be a better way."

I look up at Malfoy to find him staring at the ceiling. "If we could only get to just Pete."

"What?"

He turns to me. "If we could get Pete alone, we could just Oblivate him. After all, the crew is willing to let him back into the game. He'd only be there for one day until we vote him out. Then we'd just need to come up with a story to tell Ellen and Kiki, and plant that into Pete's head."

"But what about the crew? They'd know the truth."

"They've already said, they don't know the truth. They have no evidence. Sure, they believe your story, but they can't prove anything." Malfoy starts tapping his fingers on his knee. "The one catch is that one or both of us would have to talk to Pete alone, under the guise of convincing him to come peacefully back to the game. A quick couple of spells, and he's back to where he was mentally earlier today. We just have to stick together and stay out of his way, and vote him off tomorrow night."

I think about it for a minute. "It would be a lot easier. And I feel no guilt at all about hexing that turd."

"So we have a plan A and a plan B, then?"

I nod. "Let's go talk to Larry."

I squeeze Malfoy's hand and stand up. He stands too, pulling his own wand out of the pocket of his shorts. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Had it ready already." He grins. "Ever since I came after you at the waterfall, actually. But the urge to personally punch the guy took over from casting a more impersonal spell."

I softly cup his cheek with my hand. "Draco Malfoy, you're a good man."

He smiles down at me. "I love you."

I kiss him gently. "I love you too. Now let's go clean house."

Wands pocketed, we leave the tent together.


	35. Day Thirty Six

_Apologies for the long, long wait for an update. All I can say is, "Life. Crazy, eh?" Everyone's patience is awesome._

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Six

Kiki and I are sunning ourselves in a strategic place on the beach, where we can see most of camp. She's been quiet for most of the morning, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't believe our story. Several times I've heard her draw in breath as if she's going to say something, but she doesn't. I need to wait and see what she has to say, so I can fix any problems.

Finally she turns over in the sand and mutters, "Hit. In the head. With a coconut."

I sigh. There's no way I can tell her the truth. I can't describe how Malfoy and I erased some of Pete's memory, as well as performing a couple of small memory spells on Larry because he wouldn't leave the three of us alone and insisted on escorting us all back to camp. I can't tell her what really happened, how Pete attacked me. The official story between the players and production team follows Pete's story, because there was no evidence to the contrary.

I look up and see Malfoy, sitting near the fire pit at camp, clearly keeping himself between me and Pete. Further down the beach, Pete is having one of his solo strolls. The one problem with resetting his memories to before the attack – he's now back to his surly, angry, about-to-explode old self. Sure, we could have done something about that with a spell, but we didn't want things to sound or look any stranger than they had to.

"Look," I say. "I fell down and hit my face on something. Knocked out cold. So I really don't know if that's the truth or not – it's just what Pete said happened." I point to the bruise on my cheek as if showing evidence in a trial.

She grunts in disbelief. "I don't believe it, but I'm sure you can tell that."

"Well, it's not going to matter for long, since we're voting him out tonight."

Kiki rolls on her side, propping her head up with her hand to look at me. "About that."

I stare at her. "What about that? Don't you dare tell me you've changed your mind."

"Well . . ." She purses her lips before continuing. "Ellen isn't exactly on our side anymore. She's fully aware that once Pete goes, she's next. She was talking last night about how if I teamed up with her, we could get rid of you and Draco, then dump Pete and take the final two spots together."

"Does she not realize how this game works?" I shake my head. "That last immunity is almost always something physically straining. She thinks she can do better than Pete?"

"She's willing to take that chance, if it means a better chance at making it to the end of the game."

I sit up in the sand, and Kiki follows suit. "Well," I ask, "are you considering it?"

She looks down at the sand. "I did for a while. You and Draco, of course, will not be split up easily. I have to think about my chances going with the two of you, as opposed to the two of them." I take a breath to speak, but she holds up her hand. "I also have to think about who I can beat in the final two. I'm _fairly _sure I could beat Pete, but do I want to take the chance that I don't beat him, and he wins? And if either of them wins that final immunity, what are the chances that they'd take me to the final with them? What do I think _they_ think as far as who they could beat? Am I unbeatable to them?"

She draws three circles in the sand. "You know I care about you, but I have to think about what's best for Kiki right now. I stick with you, we're the final three. I win that final immunity, I get to choose who comes with me. Otherwise, you and Draco are taking each other."

I want to tell her no, it's not like that, we have an alliance. But . . . Malfoy. She looks up at me and laughs, so I must have a weird expression on my face.

"On the other side," she continues, "there's a final three with Pete and Ellen. I win that last immunity, I have my choice, but I'm in for the final two. If Pete wins, will he take me, or will he take Ellen? I'd like to think I'm more liked than she is, which makes me a poor choice if Pete wants someone he can best. As for Ellen, can I trust her to take me along with her? Or will she pick Pete, who she has a much better chance of beating? I can truly see it falling as a one-in-three chance either way."

She pauses and draws stick figures in the sand with her fingers. I want to say something, but I don't know what will pull her closer and what will push her away.

After a couple of minutes, she continues. "Right now, I think I'm leaning toward your side. Either way, I'm pretty sure I'll make the final three. But when it comes down to it, I think I'd hate myself if Pete won this game. But if you win, or Draco wins, I could live with it."

I decide to try and reassure her. "Whatever happens, I swear to you that you'll make the final three with us. After that, it's up to chance." I hesitate, then continue. "And there's no guarantee of who will pick who for the final two."

She snorts and looks me in the eye. "I'm guessing your choice is already made, ducky." She smiles at me. "Come on, we should do a few chores before dinner."

She stands up, brushes the sand off her legs, and holds out a hand to help me up. I'll take that as a good sign.

o – o – o – o – o

Dinner is awkward, to say the least. Everyone sits silently around the fire, eating the meager meal of bananas and coconuts. There are a lot of nervous glances, but not much talking. Ellen won't meet my gaze, and neither will Pete, although he seems to be glaring holes through everyone's feet. Kiki is sitting next to me, so I can't check in with her very well to make sure she's voting with me and Malfoy. I'm certain of how four out of five votes are going to be cast. I'm less certain about Kiki, my friend since the second day of this competition.

Everyone packs up their belongings after dinner. I grab the immunity necklace from the branch where we usually hang it, and put it around my neck. Torches in hand, our quiet group gathers up and starts on the trek to Tribal Council.

o – o – o – o – o

The pre-vote barrage of questions from Marcus is surprisingly free of any commentary about the Pete incident. I suppose since there's no footage of the attack, they don't want to say too much about it. Plus, I doubt the producers want the viewing public to know that three of us spent a couple of hours last night in the production field camp. Marcus instead centers on how tight the game is becoming, and how close we are to the end. He gives me a leading statement to explain my bruise, "I hear you fell down and got that bruise on your face." There isn't any question involved, just a softball statement I can hit out of the park. I give a quick reply, laughing about my own clumsiness.

While Marcus asks Ellen a question, I glance at the jury. Three of them are from Malfoy's old tribe, Fetia Rai. Chet is the only former Miti Matai member. I finger the immunity necklace around my neck and think a silent prayer that Pete joins them tonight.

Marcus announces that it's time to vote, and we take our turns one by one. I write down Pete's name and quickly return to my seat. Malfoy takes an equally short time casting his vote. Kiki takes a little longer than I'm comfortable with. Right now the game is entirely in her hands, and I hope our friendship and alliance can beat out any deal that Ellen and Pete have offered.

Kiki comes back and sits down, staring straight at the fire in front of her, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. I look at her, trying to make eye contact, but she's intent on not looking at anybody. Ellen, sitting on her other side, looks at her too. I shift my glance to meet Ellen's eyes over the top of Kiki's head, and Ellen looks away quickly.

Marcus retrieves the votes and gives his standard announcement about how the votes are final, and the loser will be asked to leave the game immediately. He pulls out the first vote, reads it to himself, then turns it around so we can all see Ellen's neat handwriting. "Draco."

He pulls the next vote. My handwriting. "Pete. One vote Draco, one vote Pete."

The next vote comes out, written in Pete's usual big angry letters. "Draco. Two votes Draco, one vote Pete."

Marcus unfolds the fourth vote. Malfoy's casual scrawl. "Pete. The vote is tied, two for Draco, two for Pete."

He reaches in for the last slip of paper. He unfolds it and reads it to himself for what feels like an unnaturally long time. Long enough for Malfoy to reach over and grab my hand, squeezing it tight.

"The twelfth person voted out, and the fifth member of our jury." Marcus pauses, then slowly turns the paper around. The word "Pete" is written in Kiki's sprawling handwriting.

"Pete, please bring me your torch." Everyone sits quietly. Marcus looks at Pete, who doesn't move. Just as Marcus opens his mouth to repeat himself, Pete slowly gets up from his seat. He pulls his torch out of its holder and carries it over to Marcus, who snuffs it while giving Pete the standard you-got-the-boot speech.

Pete turns and looks at us. While some of the other players have wished us luck when leaving, Pete says nothing. Even the moody firelight flickering on his face couldn't make him look angrier. He glares at Malfoy, then moves his gaze to me. I don't think I've ever been looked at with as much pure vitriol in my entire life. Finally he turns and storms off down the path.

"Three days left, guys." Marcus puts the vote container on the ground and leans on his small podium. "A very busy three days. Three tribal councils, two immunity challenges, and at the end, one sole survivor." He looks us over. "Good luck to you all. Head on back to camp."

We gather up our torches and belongings and make our way back to camp. It feels different without Pete's negative energy, and it certainly is much quieter without him crashing through the underbrush. Back at camp, we sit around the fire for a while to mellow out before going to sleep. Nobody says much, we're all thinking about the busy days we have ahead. But Kiki gives me a wink and a grin, and I'm glad not only that she made the decision that she did, but that she seems to believe that it was the right decision to make.


	36. Day Thirty Seven

**Sole Survivor**

**Day Thirty-Seven**

It's a late morning for all four of us; nobody seems to want to get up too early. The sun is already bright in the sky by the time we start our morning chores, and almost immediately we're told there's a message waiting in our mailbox.

All four of us trudge through the underbrush to get the mail. In front of our usual mailbox is a large crate. Malfoy kneels in front of it and pries off the top, revealing several items buried in ice cubes – champagne, orange juice, tons of fresh fruit, eggs and more. We're all practically giddy as we carry the crate back to camp.

As we come out of the trees, I can see Marcus sitting by our fire with a smile on his face. He stands as we approach, and we put down the crate near our shelter.

"Congratulations are in order for all of you," he says. "You've made the final four, and each have a one-in-four chance of becoming the sole survivor and winning the million."

We're all smiling broadly at him, even though we know these facts already. For some reason, it feels more real hearing him say the words. "Eat up, because you have an immunity challenge today, and a visit to Tribal Council tonight." He shakes everyone's hand, then walks off through the trees.

Kiki takes the champagne and orange juice, and goes to work mixing mimosas for everyone. After a brief discussion of preferences, Ellen goes to work making scrambled eggs in our beat-up frying pan. Malfoy starts peeling and sectioning oranges, and I cut the leafy tops off of strawberries. Soon we each have a plate loaded with fruit and eggs, and a cup full of bubbly mimosa.

"A toast," proposes Kiki. "To the final four. If I can't win it, I'm glad I like the rest of you. But just so you know, I do plan on winning." We all laugh and drink.

Everyone's much more cheerful without Pete around. Even Ellen seems at ease with the rest of us, as though she's resigned herself to finishing fourth. It's all smiles and laughs over breakfast, even though shortly we're going to have to compete against each other. I try not to drink too much, but just one glass of mimosa has me feeling pleasantly buzzed. Damn champagne.

It's not too long before we're notified of new mail. Kiki and I go to get it, while Ellen cleans up after breakfast and Malfoy stocks up on firewood. She opens up the mailbox and pulls out a rolled-up piece of parchment. We walk back to camp, where the other two are waiting for us.

Kiki unrolls the parchment and reads. "Thirty-seven days, and twelve players behind. Best to keep your wits and memory in mind. Four of you remain, three of you will fall. Numbers are essential if you want to win it all."

We know the challenge is related to numbers and memory, but there's nothing much more to go on. There are also no extra materials to practice with. We still have a short while before we need to leave for the challenge, so Malfoy and I go for a short stroll along the waterline.

Malfoy checks behind him to make sure the camp is far enough away that nobody could overhear us. "Well, I don't think Ellen's given up yet."

"Why do you say that?"

"When the two of you went to get the message, she clammed right up. No more smiles, no more friendliness. At least not for me." He stops and looks out to the horizon. "I'm sure she's still going to try to get something together with Kiki."

"I'll talk to Kiki, then." I step into the water, wiggling my toes in the wet sand. "But I think, especially after last night, our alliance is strong. Kiki knows that going with Ellen now would just result in a tie."

Malfoy takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze, and we head back to camp to get ready for the challenge.

O - O - O - O - O

We're lined up on our starting mat, with four towers made of bamboo and wooden planks in front of us. They're about ten or twelve feet high, just tall enough that I can't see what's at the top. At the base of each tower is a chalkboard on a stand, with a grid drawn on it.

Marcus comes around the base of the end tower and strides toward us, showing his usual bright smile. "I hope you all had a good breakfast!" We murmur our assent. Marcus calls me forward and takes back the immunity necklace. I rejoin the others, and he explains the challenge.

"You see in front of you, four towers. At the top of each tower is a six-square by six-square grid, each square with a number between one and ninety-nine written on it. In front of the towers you'll each have a chalkboard with the same six-by-six grid on it. In this challenge, you must climb to the top of your tower to see your numbered grid, then climb down and write the numbers on your chalkboard exactly as they appear on the grid above.

"You can go up to the top of your tower as many times as you need to. When you think you have your grid filled in correctly, let me know and I'll check it. If you do not have the grid filled out correctly, you'll have to immediately go back up to the top of your tower to check the grid up there before you're allowed to make any more changes down here."

He looks at all of us, then smiles even wider. "Oh, and all of your grids are different, so there's no use in looking at anything your neighbor has done. First one to finish their grid, of course, wins immunity at tonight's Tribal Council. We'll randomly draw to match you up with a tower."

We all draw stones out of a bag; mine is red. I walk over to the base of the tower highlighted in red and stand in front of my chalkboard grid. Thirty-six squares to fill in. Good thing I've always had an excellent memory. My tower is second from the left; Ellen is on the end tower to my left, Kiki is next to me on the right, and Malfoy is at the far right end at the green tower. Part of me wants to take the fact that I got red and he got green as some kind of sign.

"Survivors, ready?" We all nod our assent. Any buzz I might have felt from the champagne is gone, replaced by tension.

"GO!" We all scramble to our towers and start to climb. The bamboo poles are just far enough apart to make it a difficult climb, and I can only hope my strength will hold out. There's just not much I could do with magic to win this one.

I make it to the top of my tower, and see that Malfoy's already at the top of his, head down over the grid of numbers. I look down at my own grid, first taking it all in to search for any obvious patterns. There are only a couple of single-digit numbers – the rest are all double-digits, with no discernable pattern to the placement. I'll just have to take it one row at a time.

I run my finger along the top row, trying to quickly commit the numbers to memory. Seventeen, eighty-one, twenty-three, four, seventy-nine, eleven. All right, there's a one-two-three-four in the middle. I was seventeen entering my final year. Seventeen, eight, one-two-three-four, seven, then nine-eleven. All double-digits, except the four stands alone. Like the cheese in that old nursery rhyme. I repeat the pattern in my head and make my way back down to the bottom of my tower. I grab the chalk and look at my empty grid.

Seventeen. Then there was a one-two-three-four. Wait, no, there's a number between the seventeen and the one-two-three-four. But what? I write in the seventeen, then the one in the right side of the next square, leaving the left side blank. Next is twenty-three, then the four stands alone. Something, then nine-eleven. Seven? I write in the eleven in the last square, then write seventy-nine and underline the seven, a number I'm not 100 certain about. There's also the blank spot after the seventeen; a double-digit number ending with a one.

Back up to the top of the tower, and I see that the seven is correct, and the number I've forgotten was an eight. Maybe I should take these in groups of five. With the missing eight, my top row will be complete, so I move on to the next row and look at the first five numbers. Malfoy's up at the top of his tower, as is Kiki. I don't know if this is still their first trip up, or their second, or perhaps their third.

I trace my finger along the second line of numbers, once more trying to combine them into a pattern. Back down I go, muttering the numbers out loud to myself. This seems to work better than just thinking them, and I'm able to put down my numbers in what I think is the correct order.

The minutes pass by in what is probably the quietest challenge ever. I can hear Kiki repeating her own numbers to herself, and have to block her out to avoid my own patterns from being corrupted. After five trips up the tower, my arms start to feel like jelly, but I keep climbing up and down. Just as I reach the ground muttering my last five numbers, Ellen calls out Marcus's name.

"Hold up, everybody, stay right where you are." He walks over to Ellen's grid. I look over to see every square filled in, and I feel a chill crawl up my spine. I'm so close, I could reach out and touch my grid. Just five more numbers. As Marcus compares his note card with Ellen's grid, I look over at Kiki's and Malfoy's chalkboards. Each is only missing a few numbers on the bottom row. Kiki's up at the top of her tower, watching Marcus like a hawk. Malfoy has one hand on his tower, ready to go up again if Ellen is wrong.

Marcus steps back from Ellen's grid. "This isn't correct, go back up."

Malfoy immediately starts climbing. I step up to my grid and realize that I've forgotten all but the first number in my pattern. I write the number in and silently curse myself as I climb back up the side of the tower. I look back at the top grid and rebuild the pattern in my mind. Down on the sand, Malfoy shouts for Marcus.

Once again, we're told to stop everything and stay where we are while Marcus compares Malfoy's grid to the one in his hand. Now I'm at the top looking down.

"Incorrect. Go back up." Malfoy looks stunned for a moment, then leaps forward to his tower. I go back to my grid and re-check my numbers. Whispering the pattern to myself, I climb back down. I start to fill in the last spots on my grid. With one number left to fill in, Kiki shouts out for Marcus and I have to stop, my chalk in my hand and just the action of writing the number forty-two standing between me and immunity.

I grip the side of my chalkboard with my free hand, holding my chalk at the ready position with the other, waiting for Marcus to finish his leisurely perusal of Kiki's chalkboard.

He steps back and raises both hands in the air. "Correct! Kiki wins immunity!"

I drop my chalk to the board and turn to watch as Marcus puts the immunity necklace around Kiki's neck. I'm suddenly exhausted, but I can manage a smile for her. She has a wide grin on her face, but looks pretty tired too.

Marcus sends us back to camp, with the promise of seeing us later at Tribal Council.

O - O - O - O - O

I try to keep Kiki within sight the rest of the afternoon, but of course it's impossible. There are chores to be done, water and food to be gathered. By the time I bring water back to camp, both Ellen and Kiki are nowhere to be seen. It feels like they're gone for hours, but they walk together out of the trees after probably only fifteen or twenty minutes. Ellen smiles at me, and Kiki comes straight toward me.

"Have time for a bit of a chat?" She winks at me.

I stand up and brush the sand off my rear. "Always."

We stroll down the beach, and Kiki tells me about the planning. "This won't surprise you in the least; Ellen wants to put together an all-woman alliance and vote out Draco tonight."

I let out a little snort of a laugh. "Of course she does."

We wade out into the shallows, the ocean water lapping at our knees. "And of course you know I have to consider it, like all other possibilities." She smiles at me. "You're lovely and all, but I'm still trying to figure out a way to win this game."

"Well, you certainly won't be going home tonight," I quip. "But seriously, you know how I'm voting tonight. You know how Draco is voting tonight. If you and Ellen both vote for him, or switch to voting for me, you'll be causing a tie vote."

I take a breath, then continue. "I'll tell you why you should stick with me and Draco, and it all comes down to one word: Pete. Ellen was ready, willing and able to stick with Pete and bring him along to the final three with you. That gets her a black mark in my book."

She looks down at her feet, then back at me. "Mine too. But even knowing that, I still have to consider all of my options. And if I stand a better chance if I cause a tie, then random chance puts two out of the three of you together against me in the final three."

I look up at the sun, then back at camp. Malfoy and Ellen are back there, with a sizeable distance between them. "I think it's nearly time to go to Tribal Council."

"Yeah, we should go back and get ready." We wade back through the shallows to camp.

O - O - O - O - O

For the first time, the jury outnumbers the players. Five people sit across from us at this Tribal Council, most of them gazing at us with neutral expressions. The exception, of course, is Pete. One would think a good shower, shave, hot meal and change of clothes would snap him out of his rage, but I can tell as soon as he sits down that he's still full of his fury. It's almost creepier seeing him without the scruffy beard from the previous month; with his sharp cheekbones showing again and his dark hair combed back, I remember that I once thought of him as a good-looking guy. But his eyes, gleaming in the firelight, take away any handsome qualities he might have. His gaze is pure hatred, and he aims it at Malfoy and me equally.

Marcus throws us some of his standard questions about the previous day, but we don't have anything that exciting to tell him. Since we were last at Tribal Council only 24 hours ago, we don't have the usual three days' worth of drama stockpiled. Kiki expresses her happiness at winning immunity, commenting that she really felt she needed it.

Marcus turns to me. "Do you think Kiki needed the immunity, Hermione? Was she a target?"

"Well," I say, giving Marcus my most charming smile, "I think at this point we're all having to look out for ourselves. But I don't think Kiki would have had much to worry about." I glance at the jury and see Pete leaning forward in his seat as far as he can, his elbows resting on his knees, trying to stare a hole through my head. In fact I think . . . yes, yes he is. His lips are moving as he's saying something silently to himself, and I believe I can pick out a few choice swear words.

We're sent off to the voting area one by one, and each cast our vote. Kiki returns quickly from hers, with apparently no hard decision to be made at name-writing time. With only four of us voting, it's only a few minutes before Marcus wanders over to tally up the votes.

As he returns, Malfoy reaches over and takes my hand. I squeeze gently, then let my hand rest comfortably in his.

"The first vote is for," Marcus pulls a paper out and turns it toward us, "Ellen." Malfoy's handwriting.

He reaches in and pulls out another sheet, and says the name as he shows us the vote. "Draco." Ellen's vote. Two to go.

The next vote is pulled, with my handwriting. "Ellen. That's two votes for Ellen, one vote for Draco."

Marcus pulls the last vote out and reads it slowly to himself. He looks up at us.

"The thirteenth person eliminated, and sixth member of our jury." He turns the vote around. "Ellen."

She stands quickly, a resigned look on her face, and presents her torch to Marcus. As he's going through the motions of snuffing her torch, I look over at the jury and almost jump in my seat. Pete's half standing now, his eyes darting between me and Malfoy. I'd swear, if he didn't have to plow through the front row of jury members, he'd leap right over and attack us. Since we erased his memory of attacking me before, he still has all of his anger and rage bottled up.

One thing's for sure: I'm glad he's over there, and we're over here.


	37. Day Thirty Eight

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Eight

Malfoy's out fishing early this morning, so we can have some protein before this final immunity challenge. Kiki and I are doing chores around the camp, but there really isn't that much to do. We only need supplies for two more days. There's an ample stack of firewood and plenty of coconuts. The only thing we really need is water, so Kiki and I grab the water jugs and head for the pool.

She's quiet today, not like her usual cheery self. We all have a lot to think about. If she wins immunity, she has to decide who to take to the final two – which one of us she thinks she can beat. The same goes for me and Malfoy – after all, my first alliance was with Kiki. And despite all of his words and actions professing love, and the revelations about his spy status during the war, can I completely trust him?

Hell, it'll be much easier if Malfoy wins immunity today. That way, I don't have to make any decisions. And I'll know for sure whether he's true to his word, if he takes me along to the final two or not.

We get water in a fairly comfortable silence, both lost in our own thoughts. But before we get back to the game, I feel like I need to say something.

"Kiki." She turns to me. "No matter what happens tonight, it's been an honor being in this game with you."

She puts her water jug down and smiles at me, holding out one hand. "I feel the same way. Good luck, Hermione."

I take her hand, and we shake. The absurdity of the handshake strikes us both at the same time, and we burst out laughing. She tugs on my hand, and we manage to pull each other into a hug.

After a few moments, we pull apart. She picks her jug back up, and I follow suit. She punches me lightly on the shoulder with her free hand. "I know it's not the hot monkey loving you're getting elsewhere, but you've become one of my best friends."

"As soon as we're out of here, Kiki, I'm buying you a drink."

"And a steak," she adds.

"With all the trimmings." We're still giggling when we return to camp. Malfoy is back from his fishing trip, and has already cleaned and started cooking three sizeable fish.

He grins when he sees us. "I wondered what was taking you ladies so long; I was about to eat all of these fish myself."

We have a pleasant breakfast, eating enough fish and coconut that our shrunken stomachs are definitely full. After cleaning up, we only sit around for a few minutes before we hear a buzzing sound out over the water. The sound grows louder and a small shape on the horizon grows steadily larger. It's a canopied motorboat, and it quickly gets close enough for us to see Marcus standing at the front. Soon the boat pulls up on the beach, and Marcus steps out clutching a small box.

"Well, today's the day for the final immunity challenge." He holds out the box, and Malfoy steps forward to take it. "In honor of the islands, and your fallen comrades, you have a task for today. Use the contents of this box to decorate yourselves in the spirit of the islands. When you're finished, take your boat and follow the map that's inside the box. It'll take you to a spot where you can remember the players who have been eliminated. When you're done, the map shows you where to find your final immunity challenge; I'll be waiting for you there."

He steps back onto his boat, and the driver quickly turns around and heads back out around the island. We watch until the boat is once more a small buzzing speck, then turn to the box. Malfoy pries the lid off and first pulls out the map, with a dotted line guiding us around the island to two locations. Underneath are a few pieces of cloth, feathers and body paints.

We set to work decorating ourselves, just like on the day when the two tribes merged. I sling a piece of tropical-patterned fabric around my hips, creating a makeshift skirt. Kiki winds her fabric expertly around her body like a sarong, creating a full dress. I braid feathers into my hair, and take out the green paint. I dab my finger in, then draw a squiggly green line up one arm. Malfoy notices my makeshift snake and quirks one eyebrow, but says nothing.

Adorned and painted, we climb into our small boat and follow the map around the island. We see where we're meant to go – a collection of torches are stuck in the sand on the beach. One by one, we walk down the line of torches, checking the names carved into the sides and saying something about the other contestants. It's weird to think that I haven't seen some of these people, like poor Anna, in over a month.

Finally, we reach the last couple of torches. Seeing Pete's name spelled out in large capital letters on his torch reminds me of the huge, accusing scrawl he used to use on his ballots. We all look at his torch silently for a moment, then look at each other. None of us has anything positive to say about him, and we come to a silent agreement to just move on to Ellen's torch and finish up.

After we finish talking about Ellen, we all stand on the beach for a moment.

Kiki sighs. "I guess we should head off to the challenge."

Malfoy nods. We all start slowly walking toward the boat. As Kiki walks ahead, Malfoy reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a little squeeze. We make eye contact, and he whispers, "Fair and square?"

I look back at him for a moment, considering. Magic certainly helps with a lot of challenges, but his use of the word "fair" gives the Gryffindor in me food for thought. We're all already guaranteed a fairly good payday just for making the final three, but should Kiki be blocked from winning this challenge just for being a Muggle? She's certainly played well enough to earn the million. Plus, the idea of beating Malfoy in a competition without any magic does have its appeal.

"Fair and square," I whisper back.

He gives both me and Kiki a helping hand into the boat.

Back out on the water, we continue around the island, following the map. It's a short trip, only taking us a few minutes to see Marcus standing on the beach next to a wooden post sticking up out of the sand. We pull our boat up to the beach and gather in front of him.

"Now, it's time for the final immunity challenge. It's a very simple test of endurance. There is a tall pole behind me, with three short stumps around it. You'll each stand on a stump and place one hand on the taller pole. If you remove your hand from the center pole, or if a foot touches the sand, you're out of the challenge. Understand?"

We nod our assent, and are given a moment to prepare, then told to step up onto our little stumps. We all stand so that the central post is to our left. I move my feet around, trying to find an initial comfortable spot – the stump isn't quite large enough for both feet. Either my toes or my heels need to stick out a little bit. I opt for heels, and balance a little more on the balls of my feet.

"Survivors, ready?" Marcus asks. We nod again. He motions toward the center pole, and we all reach out a hand to rest on the post. "The challenge begins now."

o - o - o - o - o - o

We don't have much to say for the first hour, and I'm mostly alone with my thoughts. After a while, Kiki starts humming to herself, but it's not terribly distracting. We're spread out evenly, about five feet apart from each other and about two feet away from the center post. I can look back over my shoulder at Kiki, and I can see Malfoy's back in front of me. Every now and then he looks over his own shoulder at me, but his expression is unreadable.

Marcus calls out the elapsed time every fifteen minutes. At the two hour mark, he asks, "How is everyone feeling? Starting to get tired?"

Malfoy shifts his feet slightly on his stump. "Still feeling fine, Marcus. No problem." He certainly sounds fine, the careless, breezy tone of his voice indicating that he could stand on a stump forever.

Kiki and I both tell Marcus how good we're feeling; nobody wants to let any weakness show.

Marcus keeps telling us the time and asking questions for the next couple of hours. I'm not feeling particularly great, but I'm not feeling terrible yet either. I reach across with my right hand to lightly massage my left shoulder, which feels a bit sore from holding my arm out for so long. I'm turned a bit to the left, and can see Kiki's hand meeting the post behind me.

Suddenly, Kiki sneezes. Her hand jitters and almost leaves the post. I hear her gasp as she gathers another breath, and she pulls both hands to her face to mask two more huge sneezes.

Marcus steps forward. "Kiki, you're out."

I'm still turned a little bit to look at Kiki. She has a puzzled expression on her face for a moment, then looks down at her hands. Her face flushes bright pink.

"Oh, shit." She steps down off her stump onto the sand. She walks over to a bench next to Marcus, muttering the word "stupid" over and over to herself.

Now it's down to me and Malfoy. I look down at the sand for a while.

Marcus calls out the five-hour mark, and asks again how we're feeling. Malfoy, instead of answering to Marcus, directs his comments at me.

"Hermione, want to make a deal?" I look up at him. "Step down so we can get this over with. You know I'm taking you to the final two."

I think about it for a moment. Of course, Marcus has to repeat the offer in order to increase the tension for the cameras. I keep looking at Malfoy.

"Tell you what, Draco. You step down, and I'll definitely take you to the final two." I smile sweetly at him.

He smiles back. "Ah, but can I trust you? You've been with Kiki since day one. And I could stand up here for at least a few more hours."

"Exactly," I reply. "Who can you trust? Can you trust me? Can I trust you?"

We hold eye contact for what feels like a very long time. I want so much to trust him; we've been through so much together, from the hatred of our school days to the whole saving-the-magical-world stuff, to the past month on this island. The professions of love, the great sex, the easy camaraderie between us – it was all wonderful, but it wasn't enough without trust.

I whisper again, "Can I trust you?" The questions feels so loaded, and he seems to understand that. I'm not just asking about the game.

Malfoy opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He shuts his eyes for a long moment, then opens them back up again.

"You can," he says, as he pulls his hand away from the post and steps down to the sand.

o - o - o - o - o - o

We're allowed an hour back at camp to eat before we have to go to Tribal Council. It's a quiet hour, and Malfoy spends some of it off on his own down the beach. Kiki doesn't have much to say, since my deal with Malfoy pretty much spells out her fate.

We trudge through the jungle and arrive at the Tribal Council site a little after dark. We take our seats, and Marcus welcomes us. There's something strained in his voice, and he glances around almost nervously as he calls in the jury.

Everyone files in, but it takes me a moment to realize that not everyone is there. Only five people sit across from us, instead of the expected six.

Marcus clears his throat. "Due to unexpected illness, Pete is unable to join us on the jury. So we're bringing in Franklin, the seventh contestant voted out, to join the rest of the jury. He'll be permanently joining Toby, Carla, Chet, Sheryl and Ellen."

Malfoy, Kiki and I all look at each other. This is very, very weird.

Marcus asks a few innocuous questions, then explains that since both Malfoy and Kiki can only vote for each other, there's no point in them voting. I will cast the only vote tonight, and banish one of the two people next to me over to the jury.

I walk up to the voting platform and quickly write down a name – it turned out to not be such a hard decision after all. As soon as I sit back down, Marcus runs up to fetch the single vote and bring it back down, still acting much more nervous than usual.

He opens the paper and studies it for a long minute. "The fourteenth person eliminated, and the final member of our jury." He turns the paper around for us to see. "Kiki, please bring me your torch."


	38. Night Thirty Eight

Sole Survivor

Night Thirty-Eight

"But you _did_ see the look on his face?" Malfoy holds aside a tree branch for me as we discuss the very strange tribal council on our way back to camp.

"Very strange. Especially," I agree, "when he told us to head back to camp."

He nods. "Something tells me that Pete's mystery illness has something to do with it."

We find our way back to the beach and plant our torches in the sand. Malfoy throws a couple of logs on the fire, then walks up to me and takes my hand. "So it's just us now."

"Nothing to do now but wait," I say. I open my mouth to speak again, but before I can get a word out, he's pressed his mouth to mine. It's exhilarating, the freedom of not having other players observing us.

We finally break apart. "Nothing to do?" Malfoy grins and runs his fingers lightly down my arms, then takes my hand in his.

He pulls me gently by the hand to the other side of the shelter, where it's harder for the cameras to see us. We walk a few yards away from camp, sit down on a log on the beach, and Malfoy arranges me so we're more or less facing each other. It's a moonless night, with the flickering reflection of our campfire in the sand as the only light source. My back is to the shelter, and his back is to a cameraman; I can see the small red light of a camera blinking merrily in the distance over his shoulder. We're as alone as we can be, in this weird crowded situation.

Malfoy looks around to make sure the cameraman is behind him, touches his hand to his hip, and whispers a spell. I know this one, and by including my name in it, he's assured that I'm the only one who can hear his words.

"Hermione Granger," he begins, "we've had quite a few ups and downs in the last dozen or so years. But this last month has been, without a doubt, the best month of my life."

He clears his throat nervously and reaches into his pocket, pulling out something small and cupping it in my hand so I can't quite see it. He shifts on the log so he's no longer sitting on it, but kneeling in front of me. Oh Gods, I know what he's about to do.

"After being so close to you this last month, I can't imaging living my life any other way." He opens his hand and holds out the object to me. "Hermione, would you marry me?"

Even seeing it coming, it's still something of a shock. I open my mouth, but can't make any sound come out.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away," he says, his eyes searching mine. I look at the object in his hand, and carefully take it. It's a fascinating ring made from woven grasses, with a small, perfect white seashell woven into the top in lieu of a diamond.

I look him in the eye. "Did you make this yourself?"

He grins. "Nobody else out here making fancy jewelry, that's for sure."

I lower my head to look at it closer, so the cameraman can't see my lips move. "No magic?"

He reaches his hand out to touch my face, and I look up into his eyes. Even in just the dim light from the flickering light of our fire reflecting off the sand, I can see that his eyes bear no malice, only love. In fact, there's a clear path down one cheek, the track of a single tear.

"No magic, except for you."

It feels like the whole world has stopped. The usual noises of the jungle seem quieter than usual. I open my mouth to speak, but close it again. I know what I want to say, but the perfectionist in me wants to say it just right.

Malfoy, still smiling, cocks his head to the side. He blinks quickly a couple of times, then the smile slowly fades from his face. His eyes flicker toward the jungle, and I realize that the usual noises _are_ quieter than usual. The birds, bugs and other critters are now unnaturally silent. He takes a breath to speak, but is interrupted by a strange hissing sound behind me, on the other side of our shelter.

Suddenly there's a lot less light on the beach, and I realize the hissing sound behind me is the sound of a fire doused by water. Malfoy's hand grips mine tightly as he looks over my shoulder, craning his neck to see over the top of the shelter. I glance over his shoulder quickly before I turn around, checking to see if our cameraman is nearby, and I'm not entirely surprised that the blinking red light is gone.


	39. Night Thirty Eight 2

Sole Survivor

Night Thirty-Eight

The hissing sound fades, and the ambient light around us quickly disappears. Without the moon in the sky, it's suddenly very dark around us. My first instinct is to stand up, but Malfoy grips my hands as I try to rise. He looks quickly left and right, then moves his head next to mine.

"We're still connected, so nobody can hear us. As soon as I break this spell, I want you to sneak down to the ocean and get in the water as quietly as possible. Get down low, so you'll be hard to see."

"What are you going to do?" Despite being under a spell where nobody else can hear me, I still whisper the question.

"I'm going to sneak up to the treeline, then make my way around the campsite. Ready?"

I give his hand a squeeze in assent. Malfoy mutters a spell to release our voices, and he lets go of my hands. I immediately jump up and turn to face our campsite, so that I can see whoever doused the fire and presumably knocked out the cameraman. Slowly, I back toward the water. I see Malfoy's shadowy form dash up toward the trees, and quickly lose sight of him in the darkness.

I hasten my steps, and walk into the water as quietly as I can. I don't move very far out, just enough so I can drop to my knees and squat down, keeping only my head above the surface. The campsite is shrouded in darkness – I can barely make out the shelter, and I can't see any movement.

I stay there, nearly submerged in the cool ocean, for what feels like an eternity. I nervously scan the dark ground in front of me. As the initial panic starts to wear off, I realize that my fist is clenched around a small, sharp object. I bring my hands together under the water, and feel Malfoy's makeshift ring in my hand. I quietly slide it onto my right hand ring finger for safekeeping – I'm still not sure I'm ready for it to go on my left hand. I also quietly transfigure my wand back to its normal state, and clench it in my hand instead.

I jump, startled, when I hear the distant voice. "Helloooo," calls a man's voice in a falsely high-pitched tone. "Anybody hooooooome?" I try to watch as much of the beach as I can, but don't see any movement. All I can tell is that the voice is coming from the land, but I can't tell from which direction.

"Draaaaaaco!" The voice echoes over the water, drawing the vowels out. "Hermiiiiioneeeee! Don't worry kids, it's just us! I've taken care of everyone else!"

The sharp, mocking tone is all too familiar. No wonder Marcus and the production staff were acting so nervous – Pete wasn't suffering from any surprise illness. Most likely, Pete disappeared from wherever the losing players were sequestered. And now Pete is here, chock full of his crazy rage, having done who knows what to all of the crew members surrounding our camp.

"Oh, you little lovebirds, I know you're out here somewhere!" Pete's voice carries clearly over the water to me, but I still can't see any movement around camp, and I can't pinpoint his location. "Although, Draco, I can't see why you'd muddy yourself up with someone like Hermione!"

Muddy yourself up? I furrow my brow, thinking about the odd choice of words. Since I've never gotten a whiff of any kind of magic from Pete, there's no way he could be a wizard. But the choice of "muddy" as an insult instantly has my hackles raised.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shadow move in the trees off to my left. I squint at the area and point my wand at the spot where I saw motion, but everything is still again. And even if that moving shadow were an actual person, I have no way of knowing if it's Malfoy or Pete. All I know is that as long as Pete is taunting, he hasn't found Malfoy yet. And that the water is cold, and my legs are starting to cramp up.

A bright orange light flashes in the trees, and I jump again. Draco must have caught sight of Pete and cast a hex at him. I hope for a brief moment that the Pete problem is finished quickly, but my hopes are dashed when Pete starts to laugh. No surprise, no shout wondering what that crazy light was; nothing but a low, menacing chuckle.

"Oh, you crazy kids! Finally pulling out the big guns, are we?" Another bolt of light, this one a deep red, shoots upward through the trees, followed by the cracking sound of tree branches breaking. There's a quiet pause, then Pete's low, mocking laughter resumes.

"Thank you!" Pete's voice calls out. "Now we can be out in the open about your filthy cheating!"

I still see nothing moving, but both bolts of light came from the jungle. I have my wand in my hand, and I know how to use it – there's no sense in me staying out here in the cold water. I slowly crawl back onto the beach, staying as low as possible and scanning the trees. I continue crawling toward the shelter, faster now that I can be seen against the pale beach. I ignore the scraping my hands and knees are taking from the sand, and quietly climb into the shelter. I'm now much closer to the trees, and Pete's voice is even louder.

"Really, Draco," he calls out, "your family would be so ashamed! I mean, come on! Hermione Granger? What would Luuuuucius think?"

My blood runs cold at hearing that name, with the vowel drawn out in a long and mocking singsong tone. What the hell is going on here? How does Pete know that name? A hundred questions swirl around in my head, but I have to brush the confusion away and concentrate on scanning the jungle for movement. Another flash of red light off to my right, too deep into the trees for me to pinpoint Malfoy's location, but at least I know his general direction.

Then, silence. I can't see any motion, and either Pete was hit by the last spell, or he's intentionally staying silent. I want to call out, but the more sensible side of my brain is screaming about what a mistake that would be. Better to sit still and wait; if Malfoy hit Pete, he should be coming back to the beach shortly. So I sit. And wait.

Long minutes pass, and Malfoy doesn't come out of the jungle. And suddenly, I get the thought that inside the shelter is a very bad place to be. I have no idea why, but I've learned to trust my instincts. I slowly creep out of the shelter on the water side, then look around for another place to hide. The floor of the shelter sits about a foot off the ground, since we built it above the sand to keep rats and crabs and any other nocturnal animals from coming in while we slept. I quickly flatten myself to the ground and crawl underneath the shelter, then wriggle around and reach out my hand to brush sand over any marks I might have left while crawling in.

It's a tight fit, but I have a little bit of room to maneuver underneath the shelter. I work my way over to the jungle side, and scan the trees again for any signs of movement. I turn my head right and look around, seeing nothing. I flip my head over to the left, the side closer to the trees, just in time to see a shadowy pair of bare feet coming toward me and the shelter. I mange to keep from gasping in surprise, and angle my wand toward the feet. I have no idea which man this is, as Malfoy might have taken off his shoes to improve his stealth. The feet make a slow circle of the shelter, then I hear a soft creaking as whoever it is steps up onto the bamboo floor. I feel a light dusting of sand fall on my back as the person moves quietly around in the shelter above me.

I don't know what to do. If it's Malfoy, I don't want to startle him into cursing me. If it's Pete, I don't want him to know I'm here. So I keep silent and watch the trees, but I stay very aware of the mystery person above me.

After a few more minutes, I see a shadowy figure near the edge of the treeline. All I can see are the bottom edges of a dark pair of shorts, and legs from the knees down. This second man is barefoot too, so they've both been sneaking around without shoes. He moves slowly and cautiously toward the shelter – I don't know if he knows the other man is inside, or if he wants to use the shelter as his own hiding place. More sand shifts down onto my back as the person above me changes position. Has he seen the second man? Who is who? Maybe I should just curse them both and sort it out afterward. I consider this plan of action, and it actually seems pretty sound. I wriggle around under the shelter as quietly as possible, trying to get into a good position to aim my wand at the man outside the shelter. His slow steps have brought him close to where both I and the man above me are hiding.

Just when I think I have the angle right to get them both at once with the same spell, the bamboo above me creaks. The man hiding in the shelter jumps out and tackles the man outside. Two shadowy figures roll together on the sand, and I can hear the heavy thudding sound of fists hitting flesh. The men untangle and get to their feet, and once again all I can see are two pairs of bare legs and feet standing in front of the shelter. They're about six feet apart, slowly circling each other.

"You son of a bitch," mutters Malfoy softly.

"On the contrary, Draco. My mother was a wonderful woman." Pete laughs menacingly. "What a nice wand you have here. I don't get to hold them very often, but I do know how to dispose of them." I hear a sharp crack, then I see the two pieces of Malfoy's broken wand tossed near the shelter, near me. The men continue to circle each other slowly.

"Accio wand," I whisper, and the two broken pieces slide quietly under the shelter to me. Even if I could repair a wand with a simple Reparo spell, both men would see the flash of light. The important thing is, Pete can't use Malfoy's wand against him, so I'm currently the person with the most power on this beach. And since Malfoy hasn't been knocked out or anything, I'm willing to sit tight and listen until I need to step in.

"Funny that you would bring up my mother, though, Malfoy," says Pete. "A great woman, pure of blood, cut down in her prime. She was killed, you know. By a traitorous scumbag."

"How the hell would I know your mother?"

Pete laughs again. "Of course, you still haven't figured out who I am. Then again, you haven't seen me since you were what, nine years old? I can't really blame you."

"I don't know who the hell you are, Pete," Malfoy growls. "But wand or no wand, you're still going to get your ass kicked."

"Oh, I doubt it," laughs Pete. "A soft, spongy Malfoy? And one without a wand at that! The only way you know how to fight is with your little spells. You can't even keep your wand away from a Squib! What kind of an example of a pureblood are you?"

"Who the hell _are_ you?"

"Interesting, how your little Mudblood whore hasn't come out to save your sorry ass." Pete snorts with amusement. "But that's all right. I'll take care of her later. After all, you're the one I'm really after here."

One of the men darts toward the other, who backs off nimbly. The bare feet go back to circling each other.

"Nice try, Malfoy. But while you were learning to swish your little wand around, I had to learn how to take care of myself in more physical ways."

One man suddenly runs toward the other, and I can once again hear the disturbing dull thumping sound of men punching each other. The two get close together in a wrestling position, and all I can see is a tangle of four feet near each other. Then I hear Malfoy grunt, and he hits the ground in front of me. He looks directly under the shelter, and I can see the shock in his eyes to see me there. His cheek is cut, and there's a small trickle of blood making its way down his face.

"Come on, Malfoy! This is hardly satisfying for me! Fight a little harder!"

I hold my wand up and look at Malfoy with questioning eyes, but he shakes his head and darts his eyes back toward Pete. He then flips over and gets back to his feet. The two men go back to circling each other.

"So I obviously don't remember you, Pete. Why don't you fill me in?"

Pete is quiet for a moment, as they circle each other. "Yeah, Malfoy. You should definitely know why I'm going to kill you. And why I worked so hard to get onto this disgusting hellhole of an island. I'll tell you why. Because for the last six months, my one goal in this world has been to find and kill the dirty traitor who murdered my entire family."

Malfoy voices the question that's in my head. "What are you talking about?"

Pete's voice starts to rise in volume with his rant. "Oh, pureblood families may send their Squibs away, but I was still very close to my family. And everything they believed in. And when my baby sister was going to get married, I couldn't wait to hear all about it. But what did I hear the next day? That she and my parents had been killed by the bastard traitor she was about to marry!" Pete's voice is full of fury and anger and hate, at top volume. "You tore away my family, my Lord, and everything I had in this world! And here you are, slumming around with your little Mudblood bitch, happy as a clam, when you deserve to DIE!"

His final word echoes softly around the campsite, and is followed by a long pause.

"Simon?" Malfoy asks with amazement.

"Oh, so smart, Draco! At least you know the name of the man who's about to kill you!"

Draco backs away slowly, leading Pete-Simon-whoever away from the shelter. I take that as my cue and slowly inch my way forward, so I can get a full view of both of them. I get my head and wand arm out from under the shelter, into the clear. Malfoy glances at me, then at the thick, dark jungle to his left. He looks back at his opponent, then feigns a double-take toward the trees.

"Hermione! Now!" Malfoy shouts at the trees, and Pete-Simon-whoever turns his head sharply to look at the trees. It gives me a perfect shot at his broad back.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I yell, hitting my target square in the back. He stiffens and falls over immediately. I quickly squirm out from under the shelter and run to Malfoy's side. He's already pushing the petrified body in front of him over with his foot, rolling Pete to his back. I grab Malfoy's arm to make sure he doesn't do anything rash, but there doesn't seem to be any fight left in him. I hand him the two broken pieces of his wand, and hear him sigh. I can't see his eyes in the darkness, so I have no idea what he's feeling.

"Hermione, you're going to have to do all of the wand work from now on," he says. I step over to the man I knew as Pete and conjure up ropes, binding his body almost as completely as my spell. Then I release the petrifying spell. He starts to struggle almost immediately, but can't make any headway against the ropes.

Malfoy grabs the ropes near Pete's head and starts to drag him toward the campsite's fire pit.

"Malfoy, um, do you want me to …" I start, ready to offer a quick Mobilocorpus spell to move Pete. He shakes his head.

"No, that's all right, I have him. If you would, I'd like you to get the fire going again."

At this point, there doesn't seem to be a reason to do this the hard way. Using my wand, I clear out the soaked and charred wood from the fire pit, and move dry wood into place. Another quick spell and the logs start burning, and we finally have some light in the area again.

With a grunt, Malfoy shoves Pete into a near-sitting position near the fire. He brushes sand off his hands, then turns to me. He reaches out to take my hand and leads me a short way down the beach. We can still see Pete clearly by the fire, but he can't hear us from here.

"I'm going to look around a little bit, and try to see what he did to the crew," he says.

"Malfoy, wait … who the hell is he?"

"His name is Simon Parkinson. He is … was …" Malfoy sighs again, not knowing how to phrase it. "He's Pansy's older brother."

Despite this answer fitting perfectly with what I'd heard Pete say earlier, it's still almost too amazing to believe. I don't know which question to ask first, so they all come out together. "I … but he … did he …"

Malfoy squeezes my hand. "At this point, you know about as much as I know. In a moment, I'll try to ask him some questions, though I'm not sure he'll be all that willing to answer. But right now I'm going to check and see if I can find any of the crew members. I need you to keep your eye and your wand on him, to make sure he doesn't try anything."

I nod, and Malfoy sprints down the beach in the general direction of the cameraman who'd been filming us right before things got weird. I walk slowly toward Pete, keeping my wand pointed at him, and sit down across the fire. He's glaring at me, but still not saying anything.

I move my wand to my left hand as I watch him, and nervously fiddle with the makeshift ring on my right hand. The silence is killing me, and I have tons of questions.

"So … Simon, huh?"

He squints his eyes even further down, intensifying his glare. I can see him suck in his cheeks, then his whole body heaves as he tries to spit on me. The spit doesn't even make it close, instead falling into the fire with a quick sizzle. "Filthy Mudblood."

"Excuse me? What was that?"

"You heard me, filthy Mudblood." He wrinkles his nose in a sneer. "These Muggles, they're just stupid. But you Mudbloods … how DARE you try to take what's rightfully ours." He shifts around as well as he can, fully bound as he is.

His words spark a special anger I haven't had to tap into for quite a few years. "Oh, right. Right, how dare I be born different from the other Muggles. Right. I'm so scared, SIMON. What's a sorry, talentless, impotent little SQUIB like you going to do to me?"

He thrashes around for a few moments, then glares back up at me. "I will KILL you," he growls.

I hear a rustling in the trees, and whip around with my wand out. But it's just Malfoy.

"I found three of them, all unconscious but still alive." Malfoy shakes his head. "I didn't try to wake any of them up, so we could have a talk with Simon here."

"Oh, we've been talking a little bit already." I sit back down opposite our captive. "And let's just say he isn't terribly complimentary of me."

Malfoy sits down next to me, his eyes on the bound man across from us. "How did you find me?"

Simon sneers, but surprises me by answering. "It wasn't hard to find where you were hiding. Despite the Dark Lord's death, the Death Eaters are still a force to be reckoned with. And when I found out you were coming here, I couldn't resist having some friends help me get on the show. Killing you will be a pleasure, but the thought of killing you after beating you for the million was even better."

Malfoy snorts. "Well, you certainly haven't beat me for the million. And right now, it looks like you won't be killing me anytime soon."

Despite being tied up, Simon sits straight with the haughty posture of a pureblood. "Granted, I've had to change my plans and improvise lately." He glares at me. "I originally thought I could get on the Mudblood's good side, and that she'd actually help me bring you down. Of course, once I realized where her loyalties were, there was no need to pretend to be nice anymore. Little did I know that she'd spread her legs for you the instant the tribes merged."

The words are barely out of his mouth when Malfoy leaps up next to me, takes two quick steps and punches Simon square in the face. Tied up, Simon immediately falls backward onto the sand. Malfoy lunges toward him again, but I jump up and grab his arm.

"Draco. He's not worth it."

Malfoy looks at me for a long moment, reflections of the firelight flickering in his eyes. Then his shoulders sag a tiny bit, and he sighs.

Simon starts his deranged chuckling again. "Man," he mutters, "she really has you whipped."

I walk over and look down at him. Malfoy's punch was definitely solid, judging from the trickle of blood coming out of Simon's nose. He looks up at me with a malicious smile.

"Shut up," I tell him. "Just shut up."

"Good idea, Mudblood." He grins, and I can see blood on his teeth. "This little question and answer session was growing tiresome." He purses his lips together and still manages a sneer.

Malfoy hoists him back up into a sitting position and tries to continue the interrogation. "Who else knows I'm here?"

The only response is a menacing smile. Malfoy tries more questions for a few minutes, but is met with nothing but derisive facial expressions and silence. Finally, Malfoy sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He looks over at me, and I reach out to take his hand and pull him back down the beach so we can talk. Once we're far enough away so that our captive can't hear us, we both turn to keep an eye on him.

"Draco, I don't think he's going to talk anymore. And since we don't have any Veritaserum on hand, and I don't know any interrogation spells, there's really nothing we can do to force him."

"I know. It's just so incredibly frustrating. I need to find out who else knows I'm here." He takes my hand in his. "I don't want you to be in any danger because of me."

"Look," I say, "besides the fact that it sounds like he's working on a personal vendetta, the only thing we can do right now is deal with him. And as I'm the only one with a working wand, it's going to be me who does the dealing. And although I know it would be the most effective thing, I … I just don't think I have it in me to kill him."

Malfoy looks at me with a look of shock. "Hermione, I would never ask you to do that!"

I give him a smile and squeeze his hand. "I know. But as a Gryffindor, I have to logically consider every option, and that definitely falls under the category of 'options'."

He squeezes my hand back, but shakes his head sadly. "I just wish you didn't have to be involved in this. He came here for me, he should be my problem. I'm sorry."

"Look, Draco Malfoy – since we don't know how long we have until those guys out in the bushes wake up, I don't have nearly enough time to detail what an idiot you're being … but later on, I'd be glad to debate with you. Let's just say that right now, your problems are my problems. And the most important thing right now is to figure out the rest of our options."

Another sigh. "All right, let's see. We can leave him tied up and hide him somewhere, since after tomorrow we're out of here. But there's always the chance he could be found."

"Not to mention, the crew is certain to be looking around everywhere, especially since he assaulted several of them."

"Right. We could Oblivate him again, but of course, that means he'll still have an incredible passion to destroy me. But we can keep him tied up and knocked out until someone comes, and they'll be sure to lock him up somewhere."

I tap my wand against my chin. "Imperius is out, as it's Unforgivable. And though I could transfigure him into an animal or something, I'm not terribly fond of the idea."

"Even, say, a fluffy white ferret?"

He grins at me, and I can't help but smile back. "I think our best option is the three-pronged approach. Oblivate him, knock him out, and tie him up with something a little more believable, like the fishing net. The crew can lock him up somewhere, and when we get back home, we can have Harry or someone track him down."

We finalize the plan, then head back to the fire. Simon is still sitting there, staring at us defiantly, his lips pursed tightly together. I raise my wand, take a deep breath, and start to erase his memories. The work doesn't take long, and as I carefully eliminate the evidence of our confrontation from Simon's mind, Malfoy gathers up the fishing net and any excess rope he can find around the camp.

While Simon is still dazed from my spell, Malfoy hits him with two carefully aimed punches, explaining to me that the one on the cheekbone will create a dazzling black eye, and the other hit to the chest will not only bruise, but also make it temporarily hard for Simon to breathe, which will help justify his eventual unconsciousness.

"That felt good." Malfoy shakes his hand out to alleviate the soreness. I raise my wand and finish my work, putting the already near-unconscious Simon Parkinson into an uneasy sleep. Together we wrap him up in the fishing net. I release the magical ropes that had bound him, and we re-bind him with the ordinary ropes from the campsite.

Malfoy watches over Simon's unconscious form while I perform my final task – I run down the beach to the unconscious cameraman and pick up his walkie-talkie.

"Hello, anyone? This is Hermione. We've … had a bit of a problem here."

After a quick discussion with Larry back at the production camp, in which I can hear the stress in his voice, I'm assured that help is on its way. I gently put the walkie-talkie back, make sure our cameraman friend is still breathing, and walk back to camp.

"They're on their way," I tell Malfoy.

We quietly sit by the fire, holding hands, watching the unconscious Simon Parkinson, and wait.


	40. Day Thirty Nine

Sole Survivor

Day Thirty-Nine

I slowly come out of my sleepy haze, but keep my eyes closed. It's warm already, and I suspect I've slept in quite a bit later than usual. I stretch and feel around for Malfoy, but he's not next to me. I slowly open my eyes and look around, finding myself all alone in the shelter.

After a massive stretch, I get up quickly, eager to tell Malfoy about the weird dream I'd had the night before. I hop out of the shelter and walk around the side. There's Malfoy, sitting next to the fire, with a couple of large fish cooking over the flames. His head is down, and he's drawing in the sand with a stick.

"Hey. Good morning."

He looks up. "Good morning, although at this point it may not still be morning. I was just about to wake you up."

"How long have you been up?"

"Not long, an hour or so maybe. Just long enough to catch some fish and start cooking. I slept in too, after all that late night excitement."

"I … what?" I think about it for a second. "Oh, no, I thought that was a dream."

"Nope." He holds up the stick he was using to draw in the sand, and on a second glance, I can tell it's half of his broken wand. I suck in a breath and sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I can see something shriveled and dark green inside the broken end. I'd always figured his wand for a core of dragon heartstring. "Can it be …?"

He shakes his head and whispers back, "No, it's too late." I suspected as much already, seeing the core of his wand. The heartstring looked dead. Of course, he could always buy a new wand, but I understood the emotional attachment to this, his first and only wand.

We eat the fish and spend a leisurely day on the beach. The producers remind us that if we want to, we can burn the camp. Neither of us has the urge. Everyone on the staff seems to be giving us a respectful distance, undoubtedly because of the trauma from the night before.

We go for a last swim in the ocean, then a last swim under the waterfall. We don't say much to each other for most of the day, but it's a comfortable silence.

In the late afternoon, I go for a walk down the beach to my favorite rock and sit down for a while. I look out over the water, thinking about the last few weeks. Eventually I notice that I've been fidgeting with Malfoy's ring, still on my right hand. I pull it off and turn it over, looking at the delicately woven grasses and the tiny seashell on top.

After a long pause, I slide it onto the ring finger of my left hand.

The sun follows its track across the sky, slowly inching its way toward the horizon. Malfoy comes over and stands quietly next to me.

"Time to go?"

He draws in a deep breath. "Almost. We should get ready."

"You know what? I know I'm tired of it now, but I already know I'm going to miss this place horribly."

"Well, you …" Malfoy hesitates, then puts a hand gently on my shoulder. "We can always come back here someday."

I can feel a burning behind my eyes, and I know that if I can't get control of myself, I'm going to blubber like a baby. I take a few deep breaths and manage to hold back the tears.

I climb down off the rock, and we slowly go back to our campsite. We pack our few belongings, and I see Malfoy gently tuck the two pieces of his broken wand into his pocket, the expression on his face almost heartbreaking. We each take a torch and slowly make our final trip to the Tribal Council area.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

We sit down next to each other on our side of the fire, Malfoy on my left, and they film the members of the jury entering a couple of times. As we wait for the cameramen to get different angles, and the production staff herds the jurors out again, I put my left hand on his knee. He smiles at me, and I smile back. Then I glance down toward my hand, look back at him, and wink.

He has a puzzled expression on his face, which grows more perplexed as he looks down at my hand. It takes a minute before realization hits him, and he notices where I have his ring.

He brings his head back up, and the look in his eyes is so beautiful, I feel like crying again. He leans his head toward me, so we can whisper.

"Does this mean …?"

"Yes. It means yes." I look around. The jury is back out of the Tribal Council area, and everyone is concentrating on their cameras or equipment. I lean further in and give him a gentle kiss. I pull back, and the delight on his face is wonderful.

"I … maybe I should change my name." He grins. "Granger is a last name you know you can trust."

A voice makes us both look up. "All right, ladies and gentlemen," shouts Larry the producer. "This is the last entrance of the jury, then we'll continue with the council."

The members of the jury file in and take their seats again. I scan their faces – some neutral, some smiling, and Kiki grinning at me like a fool. But none of them seem to be looking at us with malice, something I'd grown to expect with Simon Parkinson on the jury. It's a nice change, but I realize that soon, once we get back to the outside world, we'll have to deal with similar attitudes from all sorts of people on both sides. Perhaps most of the world won't be hell-bent on killing one or both of us, but there will certainly be quite a few negative feelings. But knowing that we'll be facing them together, and that at the very least we'll be supported by He Who Saved the World, one Mister Harry Potter, makes it seem hardly daunting at all.

Marcus drones on for the cameras as I look at everyone around us, giving us his traditional final-council speech. Malfoy and I can each speak, the jurors can question us, and then they'll cast their votes.

I look over the jury – Franklin, Toby, Carla and Sheryl were all Malfoy's teammates, while Chet, Ellen and Kiki were on my team. Malfoy has the advantage here, and unless he screws up horribly during the question session, he'll probably win.

I feel his hand on mine, and we wind our fingers together. Marcus tells us it's time to start, and that I get to go first with my speech. I look into Draco Malfoy's eyes and see all the support I could ever need. He squeezes my hand, and I stand to address the jury.

No matter which way the vote goes, we've both already won.

END


End file.
